The Light at the End
by coinoperatedbecca
Summary: Complete. In the aftermath of a traumatic ordeal, Jean Graham is sent to care for her ailing grandfather where she'll learn that past does not always determine how the future will be.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Most of these characters belong to Harper Lee, I've just decided to take some creative liberty and add some new ones in!

A/N: Many moons ago, I attempted to write a story about Atticus meeting his wife. Needless to say, it didn't work out very well. Despite that, I still had this idea burning in my mind, and I figured that since I have a month until school starts up again, I might as well get it out before I no longer have any time to write for leisure. Since there is so little said about Mrs. Finch in the novel, I decided to take some matters into my own hands. I hope it's enjoyable!

Jean determined she wasn't going to have children the day her nephew died. Her sister had adored her oldest child, and she noticed how once he died, she did too. It may be cliché, but it was entirely true. The moment little Simon's neck snapped, something had snapped within Charlotte's heart and all of a sudden she was gone. It didn't matter that she had two other children, two young girls who needed their mother, Charlotte was gone. Her days were spent secluded in her bedroom, drinking herself into an oblivion. Her sisters couldn't reach her anymore, her husband was angry and didn't understand her and her mother simply pretended that everything was fine and ran Charlotte's house for her.

Actually, the day her mother said: "Eugenia, stop your cryin' and make yourself useful," was the day that she decided she was never to have children. It also happened to be just three days after sweet little Simon died. Either your children are ripped from you young causing you to die with them, or you become a bitter mother who forgets her children actually have feelings.

Jean wasn't going to be either of those women.

She also decided she wasn't going to have children because she wasn't very good at taking care of them, either. It was her, after all, who was watching the children when Simon died. Elizabeth, his baby sister, had been fussy and she was trying to calm her down and put her inside. She had told her nephew not to fool around in the little makeshift pool they had crafted for that hot day. At six years old, he proudly told his aunt that he could successfully jump from the lowest branch of the tree he was climbing into the shallow water.

"Don't you dare, sir," she said sternly as she stood to bring the baby inside. "You'll suffer the consequences."

She thought he was safe while she started rocking the baby to sleep. She thought he would listen to her and safely play with his other sister while she was inside.

But he didn't.

She hadn't known anything was wrong until Clara, her four year old niece, began wailing as though she was in the most excruciating pain. Almost too hastily she put the baby in her crib and ran outside, expecting to see Clara banged or bruised in some way.

But instead she saw him.

She couldn't even scream when she saw him lying listlessly in the water, his neck bent at that awful angle. For what seemed like an eternity, she couldn't move either. She stood there, her eyes fixed on her nephew, the shrieks of her niece piercing her ears.

Then, she ran. Each moment she ran she praised God that her house was just down the street. "Mama," She had cried, tears streaming down her face. "Mama!"

It was her younger sister, Louise, who met her on the front porch. "Jean, what on earth—"

"Simon," she screamed. "Simon, he's dead!"

Her mother had come barreling out of the door. "Eugenia," oh, how she hated that name. "Eugenia what do you mean?"

"Mama, mama," She gasped. "I told him not to jump I told him not to do it and I went to put the baby to bed and he jumped mama and his neck, oh my God," she sobbed, turning again to run back to Charlotte's house.

As she left her house, she heard her mother urgently say: "Louise, I'm calling for help I'll be there in a minute." After that, Louise came running after her.

She blocked most of what happened afterwards out of her head. She remembered Louise and her mother rushing to the house, and the paramedics taking Simon away. She remembered her mother trying to figure out where on earth Charlotte and her husband were, and when it came time to tell them what happened, she was so overcome with grief she couldn't even talk.

She had killed her nephew.

She knew her mother blamed her for it. Hell, she blamed herself for it. But nothing was worse than having your already stern mother look at you like you were a complete stranger (who wouldn't after you were responsible for their first grandchild's death?). Her brother-in-law, a gruff and burly man who once had a son named after him, clearly detested her (before the funeral he made a point of carefully polishing his gun, staring intently at Jean as she and her other two sisters sat uncomfortably on the couch). She didn't even what to know what Charlotte thought of her. Terrible as it was, Jean was almost glad her sister could barely face anyone after this happened. As much as it destroyed her, she couldn't blame them. She wasn't thinking too highly of herself, either.

"It's not your fault," Louise whispered grimly as they pathetically served punch to guests at the memorial their mother hosted at their house. "You did nothing wrong. Don't crucify yourself."

The lump in her throat had prevented her from answering, but she had quickly grasped her sister's hand as a form of thanks.

That had been nearly a month ago. In the twenty-something days that followed Simon's death and the funeral, Jean found herself growing increasingly miserable. She no longer found her lifelong friends a comfort, and despite their best efforts her younger sisters failed at easing her guilt. As a sort of penance, Jean assisted Charlotte's housekeeper and her mother in taking care of Clara and Elizabeth and assisting Charlotte in the everyday running of her household. But still, it did nothing to ease the guilt in her heart.

It didn't help that nobody made a point of destroying that damn makeshift pool where Simon had died. Even just a glimpse at it through the window made her heart sank deeper and deeper.

While it wasn't the ideal situation, it became normal.

However, all of that changed the day that her mother asked her and Louise to sit with her in the dining room. Ever since they were young, Edith Graham used the dining room as an office of sorts—it was always the place where she had serious (and most likely dreadful) talks with her daughters.

"You two will be living with your grandfather," she said sternly, looking at the newspaper that was set in front of her.

"You're shipping us off?!" Louise had always been known to speak whatever was on her mind, even if it wasn't entirely appropriate.

Edith looked up, and it seemed as though she was glaring at her daughter. "I am not _shipping you off_. He is _dying_. He is nearly _eighty years old_ , girls. I've heard from your cousin that he's had another fall and we thought it best that someone be there to take care of him." Taking a sip from her coffee, she added: "Maudie has been doing a good job on checking in on him, but it is just too taxing for her to handle. She is _married_ after all." Edith's eyes lingered on her daughters as she said those last words.

Their mother's father, Frank Buford, was the oldest person that Jean ever knew. As well as the scariest. Her early memories of him included him scolding her and her sisters and being highly critical of what they did. That must've been where their mother got it from.

"You'll need to pack swiftly," Edith continued as her daughters looked anywhere but at her. "You'll be leaving in two days."

"I don't understand why one of your sisters can't go," Louise butted in, her face turning red. She had a valid point, Edith had four sisters who could've been just as eligible for the task. "And I don't understand why we couldn't at least have more notice. Jean is twenty and I am eighteen—we could have something planned out for the future that would prevent us from going!"

"For one, I am quite certain that you and Eugenia have nothing going on that would prevent you from caring for your ailing grandfather. Even if you did, I'm sure you would drop whatever it was to care for him." If there was one thing Edith was an expert at, it was making her children feel guilty. "Also, about a month ago it was arranged that I was to go and care for him… but considering _what has happened_ , I've found that I just can't leave. For the past few weeks I've been pleading with all of your aunts to go and care for him, but none of them could make the sacrifice, which is why this decision has been made last minute. I did not send you girls to that preparatory school for nothing."

After the death of their father when Jean was ten and Louise eight, Edith had made the decision to send her daughters to an all-girls prep school in the North. At fifteen and five respectively, Charlotte and Harriet were too old and too young to attend (although three years later Harriet would later join her older sisters). At this school Jean and Louise not only became close companions, but learned the subjects that students learned at public school as well as how to cook, sew, perform basic medical care and essentially skills that would make them perfect wives and mothers.

They both detested it.

"Girls," Edith said, looking down at her paper again. "There is nothing that you can do about it. In two days you will go to your grandfather's house and take care of him, and I will stay here and take care of Charlotte. You'll have Maudie to help you when she can, and he also has some neighbors living a few miles across from them—the Finches, I think. It's not like I'm abandoning you."

Jean heard Louise mutter something under her breath, but she couldn't quite make out what it was (though she didn't need to hear it to know it was something against their mother). "I would go pack if I were you two."

Silently, the two girls made their way upstairs. While Louise stormed into the bedroom she shared with Harriet, Jean silently went into the room that she used to share with Charlotte. She took a moment to look around, and decided that she wouldn't miss it. Since Simon's death, every place in Montgomery, even her own bedroom reminded her of that dreadful day. Yet, she wasn't quite sure if she wanted to leave.

Whether she was ready for it or not, the quickly came where her mother dropped them off at the train station. With swift kisses on their cheeks, Edith bid her middle daughters farewell and informed them that Maudie would be waiting for them to transport them to their new home.

The train ride seemed longer than it actually was. Usually, Jean and Louise were constantly being told to stop their chattering or to be quiet for just a minute, but on this ride they barely said a word to each other. As they looked out of the window at the landscape that surrounded them, Louise sighed and said: "Pappy has always been dreadful."

"Maybe since he's dying he'll have a better look on life."

"Like that would ever happen."

"We can only hope. He also hates being called pappy."

Louise smirked. "We're taking care of him," she said. "We can call him what he want."

Jean stifled a laugh. "Whatever you wish, dear."

Not too much longer after their short exchange, the train came rumbling to a halt. Grabbing their suitcases, the sisters thanked the conductor and were almost immediately greeted by their cousin.

"Oh, dears!" Maudie exclaimed, eyeing up her younger cousins before hugging both of them. "It's good to see you again!"

Maudie was the daughter of Edith's oldest sister, and therefore she was nearly ten years older than Jean. However, Maudie was Jean's only cousin, so the age difference had no adverse effect on their relationship. While Maudie had grown up in Abbott County, rather than Montgomery, Jean found it easy to catch up and become reacquainted with her every time they were reunited.

Jean was surprised to find that it was Maudie, and not her husband Robert, who would be driving the girls to their grandfathers. "You drive, Maudie?" Louise asked, almost in disbelief.

"Robert taught me a little while ago," Maudie said as she cautiously started the car. "He figured if I was going to be making these visits to Pap, I might as well know how to get there myself. I hate cars, though. I don't trust them one bit."

"So, how's granddad?" Jean asked while they were well on the road. Unfamiliar with her surroundings, Jean wasn't quite sure how long it would take to get there, and was growing more nervous by the second.

Maudie shook her head. "The poor thing's miserable," she replied. "He's dying and he knows it, so he's using that as an excuse to be dastardly. He hasn't been able to keep any outside help, and his health is becoming so bad me visiting every other day is not enough. I was just afraid that one day I'll come in and find him dead…as much as he is a pain, it just seemed wrong to think about him dying there alone. At least with you two there, he'd be a little more comfortable."

That made Jean's heart sink to her stomach. She hadn't really embraced the idea that her grandfather would most likely die under her and Louise's care. Yes, it was inevitable, but it still wasn't something she wanted to experience. "Now, pap does have that old car. Robert got someone to fix it up a little so it doesn't nearly shake as much when it's being driven," Louise shuddered, and Jean knew she was forcing herself to hold her tongue. "I'm sure Robert can teach you both how to drive it so you can go in and out of town when you need to. His house is about twenty miles away from town so you'll definitely need the car."

So not only was Jean to expect to walk in and find her grandfather dead one day, but she was going to have to learn to drive a car that could quite possibly die on her too. Once her father died, she remembered her mother painstakingly learning how to drive. "I am not going to rely on anybody for anything, not anymore," Edith had said one day before taking the girls driving. That was also the day she forgot to fuel up the car, and they all had gotten stranded miles away from home.

"Great," Jean replied, looking out of the window.

"Pap spends most of the day sleeping." Maudie continued, smiling at her cousins. "You really just need to give him his medicines with breakfast in the morning and with dinner in the evening. He isn't in much condition to go out anymore, though sometimes he sits on the back porch. He has a nurse who comes every Monday and Friday—he made her cry so many times she couldn't stand to come every day. But she checks in on him and makes sure everything's alright."

"She should just kill him," Louise muttered so softly that Jean almost thought she imagined it.

"What was that, honey?" Maudie asked.

"Oh, nothin'!"

"Anyways, I think you'll really like the town. There's a couple of ladies in my neck of the woods I'll introduce you to, and you also have Ms. Alexandra who lives in Finch Landing which isn't too far. She's a little stern, but she gets along well with pap so she'll always be willing to help you if needed. I'll introduce you two to her once we get there—we shouldn't have too long now."

Jean couldn't remember the last time she had been to the old Buford Place. If her memory didn't fail her, it was probably one summer when she was twelve. The only defining recollection she had of that time was that Grandad was angry, as usual, and asked her if she was getting stupider at that expensive school she was sent to.

If that was her most defining memory of her grandad, she was certainly not excited for her new responsibility.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Again, I don't intend on taking any credit on Harper Lee's amazing characters.

A/N: Anytime I write Atticus, I feel like I always need to pray that he doesn't seem too much out of character. He may not seem too gentlemanly in this chapter, but I can't help but to think that he gets much joy out of teasing Alexandra and making her life a little more "complicated"!

Three weeks had passed, and if Jean was certain of anything it was that her grandad was never going to die. She would never wish death upon anyone, but shortly after moving in with him Jean began to question whether she would actually be sad when he did finally die. It didn't help that nobody thought to inform old Frank that his granddaughters would become his caretakers, and he repeatedly swung at the girls with his crutch until Maudie was finally able to subdue his hysterics.

To make matters better, the next morning Jean had to prevent Louise from killing Frank after he slapped the tray of medicine out of her hand and growled some profanities at her. Almost immediately, Frank had banned Louise from coming near him. Despite her dislike of her grandfather, Louise was not one to obey commands and determined it would give her great satisfaction to make Frank as miserable as possible. The constant bickering that ensued whenever Louise went near grandad was enough to make Jean want to drive that stupid car into the river not too far off from the property.

If she did that, Jean knew that Alexandra Hancock would have something to criticize about it. Jean barely had any time to miss her mother, considering that Alexandra was so nitpicky and sour it was almost as if Edith had followed them from Montgomery. Since the girls moved in with their grandfather, Alexandra had been over nearly every day for tea. The only day Jean and Louise knew they would have relief was on Sundays, when they made the terrifying trek to Maycomb to go to church and have lunch with Maudie and Robert. While they didn't have to put up with the dry ways of Alexandra, on Sundays Jean was forced to sit through tea with women such as Stephanie Crawford and Rachel Haverford, two difficult women who were always gossiping or complaining.

"I didn't realize us movin' here would make me achieve my goal of being a spinster so young," Louise huffed one afternoon as they cleaned their lunch dishes. "I at least wanted to have a few flings before I achieved such an honorable status."

"You could play around with Alexandra's son, whatever is name is, it would surely be a marvelous scandal. She is _always_ talkin' about how great he is." Jean responded with a laugh as Louise shot her a glare.

"You quit your teasin'. If I hear one more damn thing about that damn Henry I'll just about die!" Louise snapped. "Even if I wasn't already sick of him, I wouldn't dare do anything with him anyway. He also happens to be thirteen-years-old, and me "playing" with him would be a humiliation I just can't deal with. You're a heathen for even suggesting it."

Jean couldn't help but to laugh. "You may just be the most dramatic person I've ever met."

"At least you know where I got it from, now. If pappy isn't dramatic, my hair isn't brown."

Jean finished drying the plate she was holding and sighed. "You know what time it is," she said, the smile fading from her face.

"I can't go there again, I just can't." Louise responded quickly, grabbing Jean's arms in desperation. "She's going to say something or other about how my hair is messy and yours is too long and asking us why we aren't courting anyone and going on and on about her son and her cooking and her husband and whatever else crosses her mind and I just can't do it! Tell her pappy fell or something and I'm here watching after him."

"I will tell her no such thing! She would kill me if she thought I left when he's so desperately in need of help. I'll make something else up." Jean couldn't even imagine the verbal lashing she would receive if Alexandra thought she was abandoning her responsibilities.

"Good luck," Louise smirked as she left the kitchen. "If you're not back in an hour and a half I'll know she bored you to death."

Jean rolled her eyes. "At least I'm not a coward who hides from her." She called as she walked out of the back door.

If there was one thing that Jean enjoyed, it was the walk to Finch Landing. It was scenic, with plenty of trees and plants surrounding her as she walked. She found herself getting so lost in her surroundings that the walk to Alexandra seemed almost too short.

Despite the fact that Alexandra had told Jean she was always welcome to come in through the back, she always felt a little uneasy opening the fence that led to Alexandra's beautiful yard. With care, she closed Alexandra's fence and crossed the yard to her back door. Before knocking, Jean could faintly hear Alexandra from inside, meaning that her voice was raised at someone. For a moment, she reconsidered being here, but knocked on the door anyway.

"Now, Atticus," Alexandra said testily as she nearly slammed open the door, scaring Jean. "If you are going to come here for _lunch_ , you will eat a proper _lunch_. An apple does not suffice!"

"Sister," A deep voice responded from the dining room. "In my defense I said I would come for something to eat, not lunch. I have eaten, and now I need to get back to work. You're not exactly a short distance away."

"You sit right there," Alexandra replied through gritted teeth. "I know for certain you don't eat properly, so you are eating a full lunch even if I have to strap you down and feed you myself. Your criminals can wait."

That last statement made Jean's eyes grow wide. "You know I don't practice much criminal law, Zandra." The stranger replied, almost defeated, from the other room. "But as you wish."

"Jean, please excuse me," Alexandra scowled. "My older brother can be quite the pain."

"Zandra, if you're going to talk to your imaginary friends about me I would suggest being a little more subtle," Atticus teased from the dining room.

That caused Alexandra to turn red. "I have _company_ , Atticus!" She nearly screeched as she hastily began taking her tea saucers and plates out of a cabinet. "Jean, honey, please take these to the dining room—we'll have our tea in there instead of the parlor."

Quietly, Jean gently took the cups and brought them to the dining room. The elusive figure was sitting with his back to the kitchen door so she couldn't see his face. For a moment, she stood there silently, not sure of where to sit.

"I'm not sure what my dear sister has said about me, but I promise I don't bite." He said seriously. Was he trying to joke with her? Quickly, Jean scurried to the opposite side of the table, put down the saucers and mugs and took a seat. In front of him, Atticus had a newspaper and was looking intently at what was in front of him.

Awkwardly, Jean called out: "Um, Ms. Alexandra? Is there anything you need help with in there?"

"No, honey, just stay where you are."

Damn it. At least if Alexandra needed help, she wouldn't be behaving so awkwardly.

Atticus looked up from his paper. Because his head was inclined at an awkward angle, his glasses had slid down to the end of his nose. "Who are you?" He asked, dryly.

Embarrassed, she replied: "My name is Jean Graham, sir."

Inquisitively, he stared at her. She mentally kicked herself when she nearly picked up her empty tea mug in an attempt to drink from it. "Graham sounds familiar." He finally said, returning his gaze to his paper.

"I-I'm visiting," She responded. "My sister and I are staying with our grandfather, Frank Buford, since he's ill."

That caused Atticus to look up again. "I think I remember the word around town that Maudie's cousins were coming. Besides that, once Frank took a turn for the worse I assisted him with his will. I don't recall seeing a Jean in it, but if my memory doesn't fail me I do think I saw a Eugenia."

"That's my full name, sir."

"Well, I hope you were fond of your granddaddy's gun collection." He replied, looking back down at his paper. She swore she could see a hint of a smile on his face. He must have noticed the strange look on her face because he quickly added: "That was a joke."

They were quiet again. Thankfully, Jean didn't have to endure the agony for too long because Alexandra came bustling into the dining room with a sandwich for Atticus in one hand and a pot of tea in the other. "Sorry that took so long," she said to Louise as she took a seat next to her brother. Quickly, she began pouring the tea into the mugs.

"She would've been quick as lightning if she had just let me leave," Atticus flashed a smile at his sister. She glared in response.

"Excuse him, he thinks he's funny."

"I wasn't trying to be funny."

"Please behave yourself!"

Atticus didn't respond. Instead, he was concentrated on propping his newspaper on Alexandra's candlestick holder to give him a better angle while he ate.

"Where's Louise?" Alexandra asked, trying to sound concern. It was no secret that Alexandra had a difficult time understanding Louise.

"Oh," Jean gulped as she took a sip of tea. She couldn't help but to think that if Edith were here, she would want to kill Jean for acting in such a way in someone else's house. "She felt a migraine comin' on so she decided to stay home so it wouldn't get worse."

Alexandra shook her head. "Poor thing," she said. "If it gets worse you can call me, I'm sure I may have something that could help her."

Jean couldn't help but to feel a pang of guilt. "Of course, thank you."

Tea had almost gone completely normal. As usual, Alexandra talked on about how hard her son was studying, even though it was the summer, and how she knew he had such a bright future ahead of him. When she wasn't talking about Henry, she was talking about different recipes she was going to try for the holidays. The only thing that wasn't normal was the fact that for most of the conversation, Atticus sat silently reading the paper.

As Alexandra was telling Jean about a new glaze she was considering using for a ham, Atticus cleared his throat and said: "Zandra, I'm sure she doesn't care about your ham glaze."

Jean shot upright and quickly looked at him. Was her boredom really that evident? "T-that isn't true." Jean replied, still looking at Atticus. "I am quite interested…I've been hoping Ms. Alexandra could teach me—"

"I'm joking again," he explained, and Jean wondered if he knew he wasn't very funny at all. " _I_ was just tired of hearing about her ham glaze."

Jean felt herself turn pink. "Please excuse him," Alexandra said through gritted teeth. "He's never learned how to behave himself in front of ladies."

"Your poor wife," Jean teased.

"Luckily for her she doesn't exist." Atticus responded as he folded up his newspaper. "As much as this has been a pleasure, I really must get back to town."

Jean felt both embarrassed and relieved. Embarrassed that she had acted like such a fool in front of a complete stranger, but immensely relieved that her mother hadn't been there to witness it. While many aspects of Alexandra reminded her of Edith, it seemed as though Alexandra was too preoccupied by her brother to be critical of Jean's behavior.

Alexandra scowled as her brother kissed her cheek. "Thank you for lunch," he said. "Though you really didn't need to."

"Whatever you want to believe, brother."

Atticus smiled at Jean. "It really was nice meeting you, Eugenia. I apologize if my jokes weren't as funny as they were in my head."

Turning redder, Jean returned the smile. "It was nice meeting you as well."

Swiftly, Atticus crossed the room and left from the front. The moment he left, Alexandra sighed. "I hope he didn't insult you, he's really quite harmless. He just spends so much time at work or alone that he tends to forget he doesn't have a very good sense of humor."

"He seemed kind," Jean smiled, not knowing what else to say about him.

"Oh, he is," Alexandra said as she sipped her cold tea. "He really is a true gentleman. I think that was one of the reasons why he was elected to Legislature. He's accomplished a lot, but part of me certainly wishes he focused more time on makin' a family for himself."

Jean remained smiling at Alexandra and nodded her head in agreement. In all honesty, she had no clue how to relate to Alexandra's strife about her brother. "I ramble on like I'm his mother," Alexandra laughed as she started cleaning up the dishes. "I think that might be why he feels the need to tease me so much."

Jean chuckled in response. "Do you need any help cleaning up?" She asked as she began to rise from her seat.

"With this? Heavens no! I would rather you go back to your sister, you wouldn't want to have two sick people to tend to."

"Thank you again for tea," Jean said as she made her way to the door. "I can see myself out. Have a good evening."

"You too, dear." She heard Alexandra say as she walked out of the back door.

Usually, Jean left Alexandra's house bored. Luckily, in most instances she had Louise with her for the walk home. Together the two sisters would mock Alexandra and the things she found important, and while it was highly inappropriate, it was very fun. This time, however, Jean left feeling both bored and embarrassed and wondered what Louise would have thought of Atticus. _She_ probably would have had something snarky to say in response to his "jokes". Jean couldn't help but to laugh at the thought of that.

"I just can't _believe_ I missed it!" Louise exclaimed as she set her grandfather's dinner tray. The two girls were sitting in the kitchen, getting ready for supper while Jean described what had happened at tea.

"You're actin' like you missed a show or something. He was actually quite boring." Jean responded as she set two places at the kitchen table.

"Well, obviously he was boring! He's a lawyer who's in the Legislature. That doesn't exactly scream excitement." Louise rolled her eyes. "But it would've been fun just to mess with him."

"You wonder why you're an eighteen-year-old spinster," Jean teased as Louise lifted the dinner tray up.

"Pray he doesn't bite me this time," She grumbled as she left the kitchen.

Jean laughed as she started to serve both of their plates. She wasn't quite sure what was funnier—the fact that her grandad bit, or Atticus' reaction to Louise's merciless teasing.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Again, credit must go where credit is due! This story wouldn't exist without Harper Lee's amazing world.

A/N: It may seem like things are going a little slowly, but I assure you there are some good things planned!

In all honesty, Jean barely thought of Simon since moving in with her grandfather. In her new surroundings, she had the ability to fill her days with things that didn't give her time to think about what happened. That was her old life, and while her new life was completely mundane, she found that it was significantly better than Montgomery (so far). While her grandfather wasn't the most pleasant person, at least she wasn't forced to face her mother and sister on a daily basis.

One day during tea, when Alexandra sadly said: "Why, I feel like a fool—I had no idea about your poor nephew," Jean could've swore it was almost as if her mother had returned.

For once, Louise had been speechless. Jean had simply looked down at her tea saucer in response. "It's fine, Alexandra." She mumbled, avoiding looking at Alexandra.

"It most certainly is not! Oh, if I had known," Alexandra shook her head shamefully. "No wonder why you two always seem so miserable. I used to just think it was your grandfather, but now I don't think I can blame you."

Jean looked up from the table. Next to her, Louise was staring at Alexandra with wide eyes. "How did you find out?" Louise asked.

"Why, I had a few ladies from town over for lunch and it came up." Alexandra responded. Jean couldn't help but to think that it came up because Alexandra was telling these ladies about how _miserable_ her new neighbors were. Jean could also imagine Stephanie Crawford lounging on Alexandra's sofa, just so excited to tell Alexandra the fabrications she crafted in response to whatever Maudie had told her.

"The death of a child is just a shame." Alexandra shivered. "I can only imagine your poor sister and how she's faring."

Jean closed her eyes. She wanted so badly to shout at Alexandra, and for a split second she thought she might get away from it since she was so _miserable_. She held back. "Oh! You poor things," Alexandra continued. "You both look like you've just seen a ghost. I can't even begin to fathom how you're feeling."

"We're just _fine_." Louise said, crossing her arms. Alexandra frowned.

"Of course," she said, shaking her head. "Of course."

The rest of that afternoon's tea had been plain excruciating. While Alexandra soon abandoned the topic of Simon, Jean and Louise couldn't let it go just as easily. Louise remained silent for the remainder of the visit, absentmindedly picking at her thumbnail. Jean, on the other hand, was too concentrated on calming her rapidly beating heart and shaking hands that she could hardly pay attention to anything Alexandra was saying. She couldn't help but to think that Edith would be appalled at how "un-ladylike" they were behaving.

Silently, after what seemed to have been an eternity, Jean and Louise timidly bade Alexandra farewell and left the Landing. Instead of chatting on their way home, the two sisters were silent.

"I wonder if she knows I killed him." Jean muttered through gritted teeth as she looked at the ground.

"Don't be such a fool," Louise hissed, not looking at her sister. "You didn't do anything."

"Try convincing that to mother, or Charlotte or hell, even Miss Stephanie," Jean said, wanting to cry. "Maudie probably harmlessly told Stephanie that I had been there when Simon died and she spun it every which way to make it seem like I personally wrung his neck."

For a moment, Jean didn't care if it seemed like she was feeling sorry for herself or acting melodramatically. She was tired of feeling guilty and she was tired of other people looking at her like she was guilty. She knew she would feel this way for the rest of her life, but she wished it wasn't so consuming. "Well then, let Stephanie do it." Louise said, finally looking at her sister. "By the looks of it, everyone in this blasted town knows that she likes to fabricate things. You hardly look like a killer… you're too weak."

Louise was trying to make her laugh, but it didn't work. "I just want to go somewhere where at least one person isn't talking about Simon." She sighed, pursing her lips to stop them from quivering. "It's like he's going to follow me for the rest of my life."

Her sister playfully hit her harm. "Eugenia," she said, imitating their mother. "If you don't calm yourself this minute you're surely going to regret the consequences."

That made Jean chuckle. Louise, who was the least like Edith Graham in almost every way, always had a strange knack for acting like her. "Why Louise," She said, doing her best to pinch her facial features as she put her hands on her hips. "If you don't hold that tongue of yours I am going to make you eat pepper, and you'll regret acting like the little heathen you are."

Louise laughed. "She was so angry when it turned out I actually liked the pepper." She winked, and she and Jean laughed harder. "In all seriousness, dear, I wouldn't give a damn about what these old biddies are saying about you. They're housewives with nothing better to do than make up stories, at least you have some good years left in 'ya."

"Thank you." Jean smiled as they approached the old Buford Place.

That evening, Frank insisted that he sit downstairs for dinner. Melanie, the woman who took care of him twice a week, had advised the girls not to bring him down often. The numerous steps were a danger for Frank, whose legs were anything but steady. But, Jean and Louise couldn't help but feeling bad for the old man. Maybe if he was able to go to other rooms in the house and outside more often, he would be more pleasant to be around. "Maybe we can get him sittin' on the porch," Jean suggested. "I think being outside in the fresh air would do him a world of good."

While they thought it was a good idea at first, they soon came to regret their decision once it came time to help Frank down the stairs. He had his arm wrapped firmly around Jean's neck (she thought if he held on any tighter she would surely choke), while Louise stood in front of them, holding onto Frank's cane and his hands, walking down the stairs backwards. They weren't even halfway down the stairs when somebody knocked on the door.

"Lord Almighty," Louise grumbled as she nearly tripped down the stairs. "We'll be a few minutes!" She shouted.

"Girl," Frank said angrily. "With that set of lungs someone would think you were a miscreant. That's our company after all."

"If I talk at my normal tone, they won't hear me." Louise responded through gritted teeth. With how long this was taking, they had to be close to being only halfway done.

The nightmare of helping Frank down the stairs lasted for so long that Jean was almost certain that whoever was at the door was no longer there. The mysterious person only knocked once, so she figured they were either patiently waiting (they were a saint if that was the case) or had given up. It didn't help that Louise exclaimed a few curse words very loudly as the three of them almost tumbled down the stairs on numerous occasions. Silently, Jean prayed that whoever was out there did not hear all of the commotion. Finally, Jean had been able to lead Frank to the parlor. "Do try to act like a lady," he growled at Louise and she scurried to see who was at the door.

After getting her grandfather settled in his old rocking chair, she collapsed on the sofa, quietly trying to catch her breath. She didn't realize that helping a ninety-five pound man down the stairs would be so exhausting.

"Why granddad," Louise exclaimed, using her best company voice. "You must've forgotten to tell us you were expectin' company tonight!"

Jean couldn't help but to laugh at herself, Louise hated company and hated being cheerful for people she didn't know. She was probably cursing up a storm in her head at the moment. Before she could make herself look more presentable for whoever was coming, Frank hissed: "Stupid, sit up straight!" Scowling, she listened to her grandfather's command as Louise entered the parlor with Atticus Finch by her side.

Now Jean was confused. She felt stupid for not realizing that when Alexandra reminisced about knowing Frank in her youth, that it also meant he was around when Atticus was growing up (it didn't help that Jean had made the assumption that Atticus had been in his thirties his entire life). She was even more surprised to see the big smile emerge on Franks face as Atticus crossed the room to shake hands with the old man. Frank hardly ever smiled, _he must be dying_ Jean couldn't help but to think to herself as she watched the entire ordeal.

"Eugenia," Atticus turned to her, smiling. He extended his hand to her, and she shook it, still quite confused as to why he was even here. "Why, I feel like I am looking at clones when you and your sister are in the same room. You two look like an absolute picture this evening."

From over Atticus' shoulder, she saw Louise roll her eyes. Trying not to laugh, Jean smiled and said: "You are far too kind, Mr. Finch. To what do we owe this pleasure?"

"Atticus always comes to visit me," Frank said in a tone that indicated that Jean should have known this already. "I've known the man since he was barely a foot high!"

Jean's face flushed pink as her grandfather said this. For the best of her, she tried to wrack her brain as much as she could in that short period of time to see if she remembered Frank ever mentioning Atticus Finch before, but drew a complete blank.

"I come to visit him as often as I can," Atticus explained, noticing the look of embarrassment on Jean's face. "He was very kind to me while I was growin' up and I just try to return the favor. I'm afraid I told him at the last minute that I would be coming today, which is probably why you two ladies are finding out now, if it's any inconvenience—"

"Of course it isn't, boy!" Frank said cheerfully. Jean wanted so badly to laugh at the sudden change in Frank's demeanor, but forced herself to hold back in front of company.

"He's right," Jean added, smiling. "Any friend of grandad's is a friend of ours. Why, he even came downstairs to see you this evening! You two can sit out here while Louise and I get supper ready, granddad is just so happy that you are here tonight."

Jean waited for her grandfather to say something snarky in response. He hated when anybody would speak for him, and she expected him to find something wrong about her behavior. But, he said nothing. Instead he beckoned for Atticus to sit with him, and seemed so exuberant and cheerful that it was almost like a completely different person was occupying Frank's body.

Atticus Finch made Frank _nice_.

Quickly, before grandad could possibly turn back into his old, irritable self, Jean and Louise scurried off into the kitchen. Each night, they made sure that they made something nice for Frank to eat, but they were not used to company coming by their end. They hardly had any experience entertaining or making food look presentable for guests, and they couldn't help but to feel nervous at the fact that Atticus may give his sister a report on their entertaining skills.

From the kitchen, Jean could hear her grandfather chuckle or talk cheerfully to Atticus. She couldn't help but to feel insulted that he had never acted this way with her or her sisters, but was completely joyful when somebody who wasn't family came around. Was Atticus really that much of a gentleman that he could bring out the best qualities in mean old Frank Buford? It almost seemed too good to be true.

Jean and Louise did the best they could to make supper look as presentable as possible. As she was about to bring the food to the dining room, Jean was surprised to see that not only did Atticus assist Frank to the dining room with relative ease, but he also insisted on helping her bring the food to the dining room.

Maybe this is why Frank lightened up so much around the man.

Once they all sat down to eat, Atticus looked at the two sisters and said: "It is incredibly kind for the two of you to be here for your grandfather when he's in need for full time care."

"They make things easier." Frank muttered nonchalantly as Louise helped him cut his food (most of the time his hands shook too much for him to do that himself). Louise nearly dropped her silverware as he said that. Frank had never once indicated that their presence actually made a beneficial difference for him.

"What do you do?" Louise asked, still in obvious shock over what Frank had just said.

"Atticus Finch is the best lawyer this county's seen in years." Frank quickly responded before Atticus could even respond.

"I'm not quite sure about that," Atticus said. "But I do practice law in the county, and I've recently been elected to the state legislature."

"You must spend an awful amount of time in Montgomery, then." Louise responded, smirking. "That's where Jean and I are from."

"So I've heard," Atticus retorted. "Montgomery is a lovely place. A little busier than Maycomb here, but I must say it is quite nice."

The rest of supper went along pleasantly, much better than any tea Jean had at Alexandra's house. Not only was Frank actually cheerful, but Atticus was quite congenial himself. Long ago, Jean determined that if anyone could make it through Louise's teasing and sarcasm, then they were alright. That night, Louise decided to be brave and bantered with Atticus as if she knew him for years, and although he was first taken aback by her bluntness, he was soon acting as if everything was normal.

When Atticus established that it was getting too late for him to stay and that he needed to return home, he did another admiral thing by assisting Frank back to his room. When Jean and Louise offered to help him, he merely shook his head and told them not to bother. Jean couldn't help but to be envious of the fact that it was much easier for Atticus to get grandad up the stairs and into his room.

Louise looked startled. "This isn't a dream, right?" She whispered, looking at the stairs where Atticus and Frank had been. "That actually happened?"

Jean couldn't help but to be confused as well. "It must be happening," she said. "But how it's happening I'm not entirely sure."

"Well, ladies," Atticus said as he descended the stairs. "I do thank you for being so kind during my unexpected visit. I assure you I will give proper notice the next time. I try to see him at least once a month."

"You should change that to everyday, Mr. Finch." Louise said quickly.

"I know he's sick, but I wasn't aware that it was getting that bad." Atticus said, his brow furrowed.

"Oh! It isn't that, it's just that he's so much _nicer_ when you're around." She explained, making the muscles in his face relax.

"Good evening, girls." He said with a small smile as he let himself out.

"Well, now you've gone and made us look like right old clowns." Jean said, making Louise roll her eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Robert Atkinson died in his sleep one night in mid-September. It had been abrupt, and most certainly surprising for anyone who knew him. Robert had seemed completely healthy, but the doctor said it was a stroke that caused his downfall.

Jean couldn't help but to notice how composed Maudie has been throughout the entire ordeal. If Maudie had cried, she had done so in private. She admired the way that Maudie behaved; her cousin had lost one of the only people she had and still acted like the perfect lady. She organized everything herself and was in complete charge of her affairs. Jean thought it must've been the Buford in her, telling her to stop her crying and be useful. It was that attitude that made the family joke that somehow Maudie was Edith's child, but was brought home by the wrong sister.

In the time not spent assisting Frank, Jean and Louise took turns going to town to help Maudie prepare for the funeral. Each time either of the sisters would be at Maudie's front door, their cousin would merely shake her head and go: "Now, now, ya'll must think I'm some sort of invalid!" But, she never declined their offers to help.

Throughout the process of assisting Maudie with the funeral preparations, Jean couldn't help but compare her cousin to her sister. She completely understood that losing a husband was far different than losing a child, but Robert had been Maudie's world, they didn't have any children, only each other. Jean couldn't help but to be in awe at the fact that Maudie's life didn't crumble around her like Charlotte did. Day in and day out, Jean quietly observed Maudie's resilience and hoped that she, too, could behave in such an admirable manner.

The day before the funeral, Jean wasn't sure why she had been so surprised to see her mother and aunts arrive at the Buford Place. Maudie was, after all, Edith's only niece and the pair were quite fond of each other. Jean and Louise had been preparing their grandad's evening medications when they heard the knock on the door.

"The place could be cleaner." Their mother said as a greeting as she walked through the door. Jean's oldest aunt, Beatrice, shook her head as she hugged her nieces.

"I think it looks quite fine." She said.

"Um, we already ate supper." Jean said as each of the sisters dispersed around the house.

"Don't worry, dears," Beatrice called from the parlor. "We ate at Maudie's. We were just dropping Sarah off there to be with her."

It wasn't until then that Jean noticed that Sarah, Maudie's mother, wasn't with the other ladies. Though Sarah was quite possibly the loudest of the Buford sisters, she was constantly being overshadowed by her overbearing sisters, and was easily overlooked. "Maudie was telling us all what great helps you've been to her, she is so happy that you two are here." Beatrice continued.

"I told you two that being here would be beneficial," their mother scoffed as she rubbed dust off of a picture frame with her finger.

With her mother's attitude, Jean expected that the rest of the evening would continue on monotonously. Thankfully, shortly after their arrival, Edith and the aunts decided that they were too exhausted from traveling to socialize with Jean or Louise and made their way to bed, leaving Jean and Louise to their normal routine.

The next morning, however, did not go as smoothly. Just before the sun was up, Edith was in her daughter's room shaking them awake. "You two need to wash up," she declared as Louise scoffed and burrowed herself further under her duvet. "We have a long day ahead of us."

After much persistence, Edith had successfully coaxed her daughters out of bed. Slowly, they washed up and got themselves ready for the funeral. As they got ready, Louise angrily hissed: "I don't see any of your sisters up and getting ready yet."

"At least you two will be prepared while they are scrambling about." Edith replied testily from the other room. Edith was always one who detested unpunctuality, but it was something that each of her daughters could not get used to.

But, as always, Edith had been right (that was something that always bothered Jean about her mother—she was _always_ right). While the three of them prepared Frank's breakfast and medicine as well as had their own breakfast and coffee, Edith's two sisters hurried to be ready in time. Jean noticed her mother laughing to herself over this as she drank her coffee.

Finishing up her second cup of coffee, Louise looked at her mother and asked: "Where's Charlotte?" Harriet, of course, had been in school once the news of Robert death got to the family, and it took Edith far too much effort to bring her back home for the funeral.

Edith, without looking at her daughters sighed. "She couldn't come, of course. It would have been far too straining. Plus, I don't think she could handle another funeral." Jean was thankful that on top of the help Charlotte received from her family, that she had a colored woman come every day to provide additional assistance. Jean realized if it wasn't for her, the children would not have been taken care of today.

Louise shook her head. Although she didn't say it, Jean noticed that her sister had quickly grown tired of Charlotte's change in personality. It was because Louise was far too stubborn to let grief, let alone any emotion, overcome her in such a way. Edith shot Louise a disdainful look before going back to her coffee. Jean had to stop herself from laughing as she had the realization that Edith was the female copy of Frank.

Jean, like any sane person, despised funerals. In her twenty years of living she had gone to far too many, and they always left her feeling queasy. As selfish as it may seem, there was just something that made her so anxious about watching caskets get put into the ground. She found that funerals made it hard for her to honor the memory of the deceased, because she was far too worried about what happened _after_. Despite the years of Sunday school and going to church, it was difficult for her to fathom the God, heaven, and afterlife in general. She supposed it was because she was so young when her father died, it turned her vulnerable mind cynical.

She always felt uneasy at the fact that the casket sat in the front of the chapel as the funeral progressed. She thanked her lucky stars that Robert's funeral was not an open casket, like her father's and Simon's had been, or else her overactive imagination would've had her expecting that the bodies would climb out of the casket to cause havoc among the mourners. Her nervousness had the tendency to release itself in the most inappropriate ways. Instead of crying, Jean was known to laugh during funerals. Despite her mother's scolding, Jean couldn't help that this was merely a part of her human nature. There were numerous times during Robert's service where Edith had to grasp onto her daughter's arm to prevent a fit of giggles. Jean was old enough to know that there would be hell to pay for this later.

Throughout her entire life, Jean couldn't remember ever paying attention to any church service. She was too interested in watching and observing the people around her. Funerals were always the worst, however, because the sight of people crying made her feel so uncomfortable that she just wanted to laugh. However, when she noticed Maudie sitting in the front, mourning her dead husband, Jean wanted nothing more than to bury herself alive. It was a sight that she never thought she would see. For a moment, she focused on Maudie, though she soon felt guilty for being so absent-minded when she was in obvious pain. As a result, her eyes wandered to the other parts of the church. It didn't take too long for her to see Alexandra and her family, taking up an entire pew with Atticus and a man she hadn't met before. She assumed he was related to them for he had the same facial features as Alexandra. Her cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment as this stranger took notice of her gazing. As she accidentally made eye contact with him, she hurriedly diverted her attention back to the front of the church. To her alarm, the service was nearly over.

Jean remained just as listless while the casket was carried outside to be buried. Multiple times, her mother gave her a swift (yet subtle) elbow to the ribs as she shifted about on her feet. Edith had always criticized her second daughter for being so fidgety, but in spite of the disapproval, Jean always seemed to be unstill. Louise, who was surprisingly more composed throughout these types of things, was nearly brought to laughter by Jean's behavior on a number of occasions, causing Edith to mouth _shameful_ at both of her daughters. For about the millionth time that day, Jean felt her face grow hot with shame. Louise, however, always found delight in perturbing their mother.

If there was one thing that Jean disliked more than funerals, it was the traditional memorial get-together's that occurred afterward, where people continued to cry and talk about the deceased. Ever since Simon's death, Jean couldn't help to associate such events with guilt.

Jean tried to convince Maudie to let her host the event at the Buford Place where there would be more room and where she and Louise could take care of everything for her, but was actually relieved when Maudie declined. Maudie insisted that it be at Maycomb, because that's where most of the people would be coming from, and the Buford Place was just too far for some. Jean hadn't quite known what possessed her to try to take on this task, as she was well aware that it probably would've ended up being in shambles if she and Louise were left in charge of it. Instead, the congregation traveled back to Maudie's house, where a spread had been set up for the fellow mourners.

Once she arrived at her cousin's house, Jean figured that the least she could do to make up for her inattentiveness was to help serve the guests their drinks. Time after time, Jean always found herself given this task at whatever function a member of her family hosted. Funerals were the worst, because she would attempt to politely offer someone their drink and they would go on and on about the person who had recently died, perpetuating her feelings of awkwardness. Thankfully, Louise almost always accompanied her sister. Her assertiveness made people less likely to linger. For being as young as she was, Louise certainly had a way of intimidating anyone.

For a while, Louise and Jean had plastered on their fake sympathetic smiles and nodded their heads as various Maycombians talked about how unexpected this had been and how wonderful Robert was and how they weren't quite so sure how Maudie was keeping up as well as she was. A number of times, Louise's smile turned into a look of sheer impatience as people attempted to tell the girls stories about how helpful Robert had been to them. The sisters were well aware of how caring Robert was and how he was a great husband and friend, they didn't need strangers reminding them.

"Why, you two ladies look as though someone just died," The stranger Jean had noticed in the church said as he approached the punch table with both Atticus and Alexandra. Atticus' eyebrows raised as Alexandra blatantly elbowed him in the side (though it didn't have much of an effect on him).

"Jack!" She hissed. "I will never forgive you if you don't stop it with your jokes today, it is _highly_ inappropriate. Girls, I apologize in advance for anything else my younger brother might say."

A hint of a smirk flashed on Louise's face as she began pouring punch for the three people in front of them. "You must think you're very funny," she said to the stranger as she handed him his glass. He blinked as he took a sip of the punch. Jean flashed her sister a look of warning.

"Ha! Shouldn't you be in school, little girl?" He asked in response.

"Jack," both Alexandra and Atticus said in unison. Alexandra sounded annoyed though it seemed as though Atticus was quite indifferent to the situation.

"Obviously you've been drinkin'—"

" _Stop_." Jean whispered, elbowing Louise hard in the side, making her spill some of the punch out of the glass she was holding.

"I mean," Louise coughed. "I've finished school and I am here mourning the loss of my cousin's husband, sir. Would you like me to fetch you anything else?"

"You _must_ be one of the heathens that moved in across the Landing," Jack smirked, finishing his punch. Alexandra looked murderous.

"I've given him no such impression!" Alexandra said to the girls in nearly a whisper, her face growing red. "Jack this is _highly_ inappropriate!"

"Actually, we both are the heathens who moved in there." Louise said, handing a glass to Alexandra. "And obviously you are these fine people's scoundrel of a brother." Jean couldn't help but to thank God that Edith (or anyone else in her family for that matter) was not within earshot. Having Alexandra witness this exchange was disgraceful enough. Alexandra turned a deeper shade of red as she quickly downed her punch. Jack now had a look of pure amusement on his face, while his older brother merely watched the spectacle, his hands in his pockets.

"Why I barely know you and it's like you know my life's story." He teased, putting his empty glass on the table in front of him. "Jack Finch," he added, raising his eyebrows. For some reason, Jean felt as though he had just initiated her and Louise into his secret society or something. It was all quite bizarre.

Before Jean or Louise could respond, Atticus said: "This is Eugenia and Louise Graham, they're Frank Buford's grandchildren and they're in town to help take care of him." Jean barely knew Atticus, but she already loathed his insistence on calling her Eugenia.

Jack clicked his tongue and shook his head. "He's a good man," he said, his tone growing more serious. "He taught Atticus and me how to shoot when we were kids. Y'all must be alright then if you're related to him."

Both girls had to suppress their feelings of bewilderment as he said that. Jean couldn't help but to notice that both Finch men were under the impression that callous old Frank was some sort of idol. "I suppose you're quite okay yourself," Jean said in response, feeling slightly guilty for being so jovial at a memorial. "Considering the fact that these fine people are your siblings."

Jack winked. "Ha. While this has been quite lovely, I do believe I must go see Maudie and comfort her. With Robert's unfortunate dead, I finally have the opportunity to ask her hand in marriage without causing too much of a commotion." With that, he slapped the table twice and left. Alexandra, whose mouth was gaping open hurried after him, after muttering something about how he couldn't be left alone.

"He wouldn't actually do such a thing," Atticus said after noticing Jean watching Jack attempt to find Maudie. "They basically grew up together, and he always jokes with her. He jokes with everyone, actually, even if it is at an inopportune moment."

"So I've seen," Jean replied. "If it's any consolation, Louise is exactly the same."

Louise rolled her eyes as she began to pour a glass of punch for Atticus. "No thank you," he said, putting his hand up to stop her.

Louise put both of her hands up as a sign to indicate she was innocent. "I promise I didn't do anything to it," she said. "I only spike the punch at weddings, it would be too cruel to do it at a funeral."

Atticus smiled at her in response. "While that would be quite the sight to see, Miss Graham, I simply have no taste for it whether you spiked it or not."

"In all seriousness," he said, looking down at the empty glasses on the table. "I am truly sorry for Robert's death. I understand that you two and Maudie are very close, so you must have had some attachment to him. Everyone in the neighborhood is quite glad that Maudie has some family nearby to be with her during this time."

"You're a very considerate person, Mr. Finch." Jean smiled at him, and he returned it with a small one of his own. She couldn't help but to think that Atticus was professional and cordial all of the time, not just when he was working.

To Jean's surprise, Louise also had a kind smile on her face. "Thank you." She said simply as he bowed his head at them. Once again, Atticus had completely left Jean flabbergasted. Louise was never genuinely polite to just _anyone_ , only to people she held in high regard. _He has to be too good to be true_ , Jean found herself thinking as she resumed her duty of serving the punch.


	5. Chapter 5

After Robert's funeral, both Jean and Louise (though especially Louise) were relieved to see that their daily teas with Alexandra were becoming less frequent. Both girls were unsure of whether this was because Alexandra was appalled by Louise's interactions with Jack or because they had opted to spend more time in town with Maudie. Either way, neither girl cared. Now, when they weren't at the Buford Place with Frank, they were spending time in Maudie's garden with her. Since Robert's death, their cousin had grown more and more determined to have a prize-winning collection of flowers. Jean couldn't help but to think that Maudie was most likely compartmentalizing her feelings of grief and using her garden as a means to distract herself. But, if Maudie was happy, then Jean couldn't complain much. This new routine also brought on a new feeling of normalcy that meant less socialization, which she was surely thankful for. If Frank was just a little bit kinder, Jean's life would almost be completely pleasant.

There was certainly a cause for surprise when Atticus Finch arrived at the Buford Place one November afternoon. While he still made the effort to visit with Frank on a somewhat regular basis, both his work in town and with the legislature had made him almost a stranger to the house (though it was always a pleasurable evening for the girls whenever he did visit). Earlier that day, after ten minutes of bickering over who would tend to Frank, Jean had impatiently gone upstairs to give Frank his medicine and feed him lunch (she dreaded it—he was always especially angry after his afternoon nap). Ten minutes later, Louise was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a smirk on your face. "C'mere," she winked. Jean glanced at her irritable grandfather and then back at her sister.

"What do you want?" She hissed at Louise.

"Come _here_."

Sighing, Jean put down her grandfather's silverware and went into the hallway. " _What_?"

"Atticus Finch is here," she whispered, the smirk growing. "For _you_. He needs a favor."

"From me?"

"Quit bein' daft, that's what I just said!" Louise said, shaking Jean by her shoulders. "Now go down there because I'm _dyin'_ to know what it is."

Perplexed, Jean quickly went downstairs to find Atticus sitting in the parlor. He was mindlessly looking at the dust cover of a book that she had left on the coffee table. "Um, Mr. Finch?" She asked after a few moments of silence. Quickly, he looked away from the book and stood up.

"I hope you're having a good morning." He greeted.

"Oh yes, I am," she said, clasping her hands together. "My sister said you wanted to ask me somethin'?"

He cleared his throat, and cut right to the chase. "I was wondering if you could assist me in doing something that's rather important, if you didn't mind."

"It'll be no trouble," she responded, mentally kicking herself for agreeing to do whatever he was asking before he even told her what it was. What if it was something completely ridiculous?

"I've recently had a case where the man I was defending was charged with nearly killing his neighbor over a debt that was owed," Atticus said professionally, making Jean jump a little (she was always startled by what people would do over money). "When I took on the case it was quite obvious that this man was guilty, though I tried my best to defend him. Luckily for his sake his children aren't being taken by the state and he wasn't given the death penalty. However, he has to serve twenty years in prison as a result of his actions and I am required to tell his wife the news. I don't have to do things like this often, but when I do I always try to bring along a woman for additional comfort. She isn't much older than you, and she has three young children to care for."

"You want _me_ to come with you?" Jean asked, surprised.

"Well, yes. If you don't mind."

"Me?" She asked again, just to make sure her hearing didn't fail her. Atticus took in a slow breath.

"You're more socially graceful than Alexandra or Louise, so I thought your presence would be most appropriate given what needs to be done."

Jean nearly laughed. Had he called her _graceful_?

"If you can't go—"

"I would enjoy helping you very much," Jean interrupted, though in hindsight she figured that was quite rude. "I just need to tell my sister where I'll be real quick."

Before he could respond, Jean scurried upstairs to Louise. She had expected her sister to still be in Frank's room, but was quickly startled when she collided with her sister in the hallway.

"I can't believe he doesn't think _I'm_ socially graceful," she whispered sarcastically, a playful grin on her face. "Why, I've taught you everything you know."

"I can't believe you were spyin'!" Jean jeered, putting her hands on her hips.

"Oh Lord, don't do that when you're with him. You most certainly look like Edith when you do that."

"I'll be back later," Jean said after lightly shoving her sister. "I'm sure you can handle grandad by yourself."

"If he keeps you out too late I'll craft a story similar to the likes of Stephanie Crawford for Alexandra," Louise smirked, crossing her arms. "I'm sure she'd _love_ it."

"Have fun with grandad, you spiteful wench." Jean sneered, making Louise laugh.

"Have fun with Mr. Finch," she winked. "Just remember: Stephanie's beady eyes are _everywhere_. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That's real funny, because you have the moral standings of an ant at a picnic." Jean rolled her eyes as she came back down the stairs. Atticus was now standing by the door, dressed in his hat and coat. "Will you need a jacket?" He asked, opening the door for her. "It's been getting colder out."

"Oh heavens no," She said as she walked out on the porch, with Atticus at her heels. "I'm quite certain I'd be fine."

"Alright, if you think so."

She almost rolled her eyes at him like she would to Charlotte or Louise if one of them had done the same thing, but she quickly remembered that this was Atticus Finch and not one of her sisters. Instead, she caught herself and merely smiled at him.

As she climbed into his car, she found herself gripping the side of the door like she would when Louise drove Frank's old beast. Not only was the car in such poor shape, but Louise was such a terrible driver that Jean was surprised they hadn't crashed by now. "I wouldn't worry if I were you," Atticus said. "I think you'll find that I'm a competent driver."

"Sorry." She said quickly, moving her hand from the door and onto her lap.

For a few moments they were silent, she stared out of the window at the landscape that surrounded them while Atticus was looking straight ahead. "I'm afraid it'll take us a while to get there," he said after a few moments. "They live on the very edge of town."

"That's fine," she mumbled, still looking out of the window.

"You know," he said, still looking straight in front of him. "I grew up with two younger sisters and I've heard many an insult in my time, but spiteful wench was a new one."

Jean gasped as she shot her gaze at Atticus. "I didn't think you heard."

"I thought it was creative."

"You must think I'm an idiot."

"With a sister as… colorful as Louise, you probably have to be pretty imaginative." He said, and through her embarrassment Jean noticed he was smiling. "My sisters merely referred to each other as animals."

"I can hardly imagine Alexandra doing anything of the sort." Jean said, though she was being sarcastic.

Atticus chuckled. "Has it escaped your notice that Zandra has the propensity to be quite spiteful?" He asked, she smirked.

"I was trying to be ironic."

"That's what I like about you," he said. "While you certainly are a well-mannered girl, you have the ability to consciously torment people while still appearin' to be polite. It makes you tricky, though."

She thought Louise would be proud when she batted her eyelashes and asked: "Why, you like me, Mr. Finch?" She thought he should know that she could openly tease people, too.

"Well, I do." He said seriously, making her think about the time she first met him at Alexandra's house. _He must take everything so seriously_ , she thought to herself. "You're a nice girl."

"You're rather pleasant yourself." She responded, he was silent again.

Jean looked out of the window again, and realized she didn't recognize where they were at this point. That didn't startle her, though, because the only places she'd been besides the Buford House and Finch Landing was Maudie's house, the church and the grocery store. Despite being there for nearly four months, Maycomb was still foreign to her. As she looked out the window, Jean couldn't help but wonder what Atticus did with his life besides work. He wasn't married, so as far as Jean knew, he was completely alone. All he probably did was work, read, sleep and repeat the same cycle day after day. It must've been incredibly boring, but he seemed to enjoy it all the same.

"How do you like Maycomb?" He asked.

"I reckon it's quite nice," she responded, looking at him again. "The people are friendly and it's rather nice to be here, but it's awfully slow. It's quite the adjustment from Montgomery."

"Montgomery is a bit too fast. It seems as though everyone is always in a hurry, at least in Maycomb I know each day will be calm." He said contently, and she couldn't help but to laugh at him.

"You must never have travelled far from Alabama," she said, smiling. "Because Montgomery is nothin' compared to other places."

"I've visited Boston and Nashville before," he informed her. "But in my opinion once you've been to one busy city, you've been to them all. I've known Maycomb ever since it came to existence, I reckon that's why I like it so much."

Jean wasn't surprised at all to hear of Atticus' disdain for busy cities. He was such a simple man, who enjoyed a simple life. While he probably faced many remarks on the way he chose to live, he seemed to be very content with his life. "I suppose you're right." She said warmly.

She began to feel quite restless as Atticus continued to quietly drive. She wasn't sure how long they had been traveling or how long they had left to go, but she couldn't help but to be startled when the once smooth dirt road became increasingly bumpy. Once again, she found herself gripping to the door to keep her steady but once she did so, Atticus quickly looked at her before bringing his attention back to the road. "It's fine," he said calmly. "We're gettin' closer now."

She lessened her grip on the door, but still kept her hand there. "What's this woman's name, sir?" She asked, beginning to feel a little nervous about the task at hand.

"Her name is Mrs. Butler," Atticus responded. "Her first name is Savannah. I should warn you, this'll be a sad sight. She and her husband are what others would consider run of the mill people. Neither of them have much education, and Mr. Butler didn't have much work which is how—"

"He got into his predicament?"

"Exactly."

"What did he do?" She asked, letting her nosiness get the best of her.

"You'll see that this part of town isn't exactly the best," Atticus started as Jean began looking out the window to see any signs of this. "And after the birth of his youngest child, he got into gamblin'. Well, he and the other men in this area are in no such position to actually be doing such a thing, and Mr. Butler's neighbor ended up owing him a decent amount of money. With the pressures of having very little work and four other mouths to feed, he stabbed his neighbor nearly ten times out of sheer desperation, thinkin' it would do him some good. Everyone knew he was guilty, but at least I was able to give him the…most desirable punishment there was."

"That's plain awful," Jean said, frowning slightly. "What is his wife going to do?"

Atticus shrugged. "She'll make do, somehow." Was all he said, but Jean couldn't help but to worry for the woman she had never met before in her life.

"How old are her children?"

"The oldest is almost six, I believe. The middle one is three and the baby is only but a few months old." Atticus said matter-of-factly as a pit of dread formed in her stomach. Why, they were so close in age to her own nieces. The oldest must've been only a few months younger than Simon.

She chewed her bottom lip as she thought about Mrs. Butler's children and compared them to her own family. She couldn't help but to wonder how this woman was as a mother, and if she would turn into an empty pit like Charlotte had once she heard about the news of her husband. It seemed as though she was already in so much despair, so it was probably very likely that these poor babies would be left to their own devices. Did they have family like Clara and Elizabeth, who would step up and take care of them once the situation called for it? Probably not. Jean couldn't help but to think that her nieces were lucky that their grandmother and two great aunts all lived in the same neighborhood, to help them since their mother was in a constant state of incapacitation and their father always gone. But these three poor children were doomed. Their already bleak future had been eliminated. A knot began to form in her throat.

"Are you alright?" Atticus asked quizzically, looking over at her once again.

She coughed. "Oh, of course." She sputtered, realizing how nervous she must've looked.

"Good." Atticus said. "Because we are just arriving now. It's alright if you're nervous, but try not to let it bother you too much. I'll warn you, this won't be a pretty sight."

Jean nodded and swallowed as she looked out of the window again. She couldn't help but to gasp at the poorly constructed huts (houses would be an inappropriate way to describe them) and dirt that surrounded her. It was then she decided that Atticus Finch was the devil for bringing her here.


	6. Chapter 6

It took Atticus nearly five minutes to coax her out of the car. Once Jean took one glance at their surroundings, she began to panic. How in the hell was she going to be a source of comfort for this woman if she was on edge herself? Atticus was surely crazy for thinking this was a good idea. She could tell he was getting impatient. "Miss Graham," he said, using a stern voice, making her want to sit up straight and act like she did while she was in prep school. "I asked you to come with me because I knew you'd be helpful. If I need to, I will get you out of the car myself."

She didn't expect Atticus to be able to speak that way. He didn't seem like he was the type who would be able to be cross and threaten her with such a proposition. In a sense, he reminded her of Edith on one of her best days. Fearful of what was to come if she didn't obey, Jean immediately got out of the car. "Thank you." Atticus said, his voice returning to his normal tone. "I assure you this will be fine."

Jean wasn't quite so sure. The moment the car doors shut, the front door of the small house opened, and a small child ran outside excitedly. Jean couldn't help but wonder whether this child should be in school as she threw herself on the ground and started playing in the dirt. Looking up at the shabby porch, Jean noticed a small, homely looking woman with a baby on her hip and a toddler clinging to her legs. Despite the fact that it looked like Mrs. Butler had tried to clean up, she still looked dirty. Jean felt guilty. "Oh, Mista Finch," She said cordially as she smiled. "You didn't hafta make the trip all the way to me."

Atticus tipped his hat, even in such a circumstance he was still the perfect gentleman. "I'm afraid it's necessary," Atticus said somberly. "This here is my friend, Jean Graham. I was wonderin' if we could come inside and have a chat with you?"

As Savannah looked at Jean, who was leaning against the car to prevent herself from fidgeting, the smile quickly faded from her face. "This is about Randy, ain't it?" She asked, not looking at Atticus.

"I'm afraid so." Atticus replied as he started towards the front steps. Quickly, Jean followed behind him. From up close, Jean could see the tears forming in Savannah's eyes. Jean didn't know what Atticus was talking about, this certainly was not fine, and they hadn't even talked to her yet. As they began to enter the house, Jean clasped Savannah's free hand in hers, trying to be a source of comfort. By now the woman looked cold, almost harsh.

As Savannah invited them to take a seat on her broken couch, Jean looked towards the front door, thinking about the little girl playing in the dirt. "Is she—"

"She's fine out there on her own." Savannah snapped, making Jean jump a little.

"I'm sorry," Jean smiled, trying not to look surprise. "I was just worried—"

"You don't have children of your own, do you?"

Jean shook her head, her cheeks flushed. If only Savannah knew about Simon, and how she had just left him for a few minutes… "No, ma'am. But I did help take care of my sister's children for a little while."

Savannah was now pacing the room, bouncing the baby on her hip. The toddler, another little girl, had retreated to a corner of her room and was watching the two strangers while sucking her thumb. "It ain't the same," the woman sneered, eyeing Jean up and down. "It ain't the same at all."

Jean couldn't help but to feel stung. This woman didn't know her or her nieces, or the fact that her sister barely even looked at her children anymore. Maybe if Savannah knew how many times Clara accidentally called Jean 'mama' or how many times she had to act like their mother, she would understand. Instead of saying something sarcastic, Jean simply nodded. "I suppose it isn't, I'm sorry."

Savannah, with her eyes still on Jean, asked: "Well, Mista Finch, what did they say about Randy?"

Atticus cleared his throat, and Jean looked over at him. He was holding his hat firmly on his lap, and was looking at Savannah with a kind expression on his face. "Mrs. Butler," he started. "I'm going to be forward with you, the situation is not the best. But, I've gotten him the best possible deal I could. Rather than getting the death penalty for attempted murder, he's required to serve twenty years in jail. They're holdin' him in Abbott County now, but it's subject to move. I've been tryin' to see if they'll lessen the term, but due to the severity of the situation, it's looking less likely."

As Atticus broke the news to her, Savannah's face had contorted with such severe anguish Jean wasn't sure if she could bear to look at the woman anymore. She let out a cry, startling the baby that was now beginning to fuss in her arms. " _Twenty years_?!" She sobbed, as the baby cried with her. The toddler, immediately noticing her mother's distress, whimpered as she walked over to Savannah, planting herself at her mother's feet. "My children will be _grown_ by then! Why, why we need him Mista Finch, he's the one who's always worked!"

Jean's heart sunk as Savannah began to sob. The toddler was now standing, tugging at her mother's dress. "Daddy?" She asked, repeatedly. Frustrated by the child, Savannah gently kicked her leg, making the little girl fall, and walked away. Soon enough, she was now crying along with her mother and the baby. Impulsively, Jean rose from the couch and picked the toddler up. She sat back down next to Atticus, attempting to soothe the child. Savannah paid no mind to it.

"Why, I don't know what I'm going to do." She wept, burrowing her face in her baby's tattered blanket.

Resting her head on the sniffling toddler's head, Jean cleared her throat. She was so concentrated on Savannah that she hadn't noticed Atticus watching her. "I-I'm sure that perhaps one of your neighbors could help with the children," she offered, trying to be helpful. "That way you could find some work, I'm sure they'll be supportive."

"T-they'd expect money," Savannah cried, looking at the ground. Jean wanted nothing more than to be swallowed up by the earth at that moment. "They're in the s-same position, they wouldn't j-just watch them."

"Well, maybe," Jean said, trying her best to think of something. "Maybe the people in the town can petition for something to be done, like a collection at church for you or somethin', that way you can have someone watch your children, and still have a foundation for yourself. Why, that pretty little girl of yours out there must be startin' school soon, so that'll be a help."

Savannah sniffed, and Jean was surprised to see that she was now addressing her, rather than looking at the baby. "No-one's ever finished school in mine or Randy's family, it's absolutely hopeless to think that'll ever change." She lamented. "And what makes you think anyone in town would care to do that? They don't even know me, let alone care about me."

Jean shot up, startling the toddler once more. Bouncing her knees up and down to keep her from fussing, Jean looked at Savannah intently. "Well, _I_ care." She said seriously, and couldn't help but notice that Savannah looked surprised. " _I'll_ petition for the collection this Sunday at church, and I'll bring it to you myself just to show you how serious I am." Jean wasn't going to let this woman and her children be forgotten so quickly. While these children may not have the same opportunities as her own nieces, she wasn't going leave these little ones without hope.

"You really care?"

"I really do."

Atticus cleared his throat once again, and stood up. Looking back and forth between the women, he held his hat behind his back and said: "I assure you, Mrs. Butler that your family will still be able to get by. This town is full of good folk. Though the case may be over, I still defend your husband. Therefore, I defend you."

Savannah sniffed and wiped her nose with her free hand. She was still crying, and Jean couldn't blame her. If she was in the other woman's position, Jean would feel just as terrified and hopeless. With the baby still in her arms, she hugged Atticus, pressing her tear stained face on his arm, leaving a wet mark on his suit jacket. "Thank you, Mista Finch," she said, rubbing at her eyes.

Smoothing the little girl's hair on her head, Jean smiled at her before placing her back on the ground. She stood up, looking down at her dress as she straightened it, still trying to avoid Savannah's eyes. Whether this trip had gone well or the way Atticus had planned, Jean wasn't so sure. The only thing she knew was that she continued to feel increasingly uneasy. Finally, the two women locked eyes. "You're awfully kind." Savannah mumbled, making Jean turn red. She knew of nothing else to do but smile and grasp Savannah's hand in response.

Atticus bid farewell to Savannah, and once again reassured her that things would work out. He asked Jean to go ahead of him, and he lingered on the porch with Savannah for a few moments. Walking to the car, Jean observed the oldest child still playing not too far away, and felt relieved. As she waited, she notice Atticus reach into his pocket and hand the woman what seemed to be ten dollars. In shock, Savannah pulled Atticus into another hug and continued to cry. Jean couldn't help to think that it was very admirable for him to do that.

She didn't get into the car until Atticus walked down the porch steps and was coming closer to her. Silently they sat together as he started the ignition and began to drive away. As they passed the oldest little girl, Jean smiled sadly and waved. Almost as if she didn't have a care in the world, the child grinned and waved back fervently, once again making Jean feel sorrowful.

For a few moments, they sat there in silence. Atticus was looking intently ahead of him, seeming as if he was just driving back home from a visit with his sister or something. Jean, on the other hand, knew she looked outwardly agonized. On occasion, the silence would be interrupted by her exhaling a little too loudly. Atticus, however, seemed to pay no notice to it.

"That was kind," she said finally, making him jolt slightly. "What you gave to her."

"Her children would've starved otherwise." He said, matter-of-factly, almost as if he was just conducting a necessary business move.

"But still, you didn't need to do it."

"I wanted to."

"That's what makes it kind."

Atticus sighed as he looked at her. While she didn't know exactly what time it was, she knew it was starting to get late by the sight of the setting sun. "You look like you've just seen a ghost," he pointed out, making her feel a little self-conscious. "You must be hungry."

"I'm alright, sir." She responded.

He chuckled to himself. "You don't need to call me 'sir'. I'm certain I can't be _that_ much older than you." He said, trying to tease. "I'll get you some supper, as a repayment for your help today."

"It's quite alright, really." Jean said, thinking about how Louise and Frank were faring in her absence.

"I've kept you out late enough already," Atticus said straightforwardly, as though he was discussing the stock exchange with some fellow in town. "What would a little longer hurt?"

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt." She said, lightening up. "If Louise had killed grandad, it would've happened ages ago, so there'll be nothing I could do now. Luckily Alexandra's close by to keep close tabs on any emerging indignity that has been unfolding in my absence."

The beginning of a smile played at the corner of Atticus' mouth. "Zandra would surely love that," he said, chuckling to himself. "Any story she bears concerning Louise and Mr. Buford would certainly help elevate her already inflated social standing in town."

By the time that Atticus arrived at the small diner that seemed to be but a few minutes away from Maycomb, it was almost completely dark outside. As the two of them sat at a nicely set table, Jean couldn't help but to laugh to herself. "I can't help but to think of the sorts of _shameful_ stories Miss Stephanie would create if she knew we were out together after dark."

Atticus gave a small smile as the server placed the supper specials in front of them. "I could hardly think of scandal," he said flatly, putting his napkin on his lap. "I swear she gets more and more creative by the day. I think she's learned a thing or two from my sisters."

Pleasantly, the pair ate their dinner. Every now and then, one of them would speak up about how good dinner was, how they thought Louise and Frank were doing, and about other little things happening in the town. Jean had nearly forgotten about the events at Savannah's house, and was feeling much more light-hearted than before.

"Thank you again," Atticus said as he finished his supper. "For accompanying me earlier, I appreciate it very much."

She smiled at him. "It was no trouble, honestly." She said. "I hope I was useful."

"You certainly were. If you hadn't have come, I would still be there trying to calm a hysterical woman."

"I'm glad I could've helped."

"You did very well."

Jean had been dreadfully embarrassed when Atticus paid for both of their suppers. If she had even expected the two of them were going to eat out, she would have at least brought a small amount of cash with her to pay for her share. He merely shook his head when she tried to painfully tell him that she would surely give him some money once they arrived back at the Buford Place. "It isn't any bother," he had told her. "I really don't mind."

As they stepped back into the car, he informed her that they still had about twenty minutes until they returned back to her home. Despite the fact that it hadn't been a completely awful day, Jean couldn't wait to return back home to Louise and her bed. For a short while, she forced herself to stay awake so that she would be completely cognizant during the ride home, but she quickly nodded off to sleep and didn't wake up until Atticus shook her awake when they arrived back at the Buford Place. Groggily, she wiped her eyes.

"I'll walk you to the door." He offered as she yawned. "So your sister knows you were in good hands."

She didn't object. Sleepily, she got out of the car and Atticus walked her to the door and knocked for her. Shortly after, Louise appeared in the doorway in her night dress, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. "Well, _Eugenia_ ," she said loudly, her hands on her hips. "I was just about to send a search party for the two of you!"

Jean rolled her eyes. "You're hilarious." She said, making Louise smile wider with a look of sick satisfaction on her face. "Thank you again, Mr. Finch."

He tipped his hat at the two sisters. "Thank you again for your help, and I'm very sorry for keeping her late." He smiled, before walking off of the porch and going back to his car. Almost instantaneously, Louise shoved her sister inside, her smile still on her face.

"I don't care how tired you are, you _hafta_ tell me why you were out so late!" She said excitedly. "When I told pappy you were gone with Atticus Finch, I thought he was going to die from joy. Just the mentionin' of him puts pappy in a better mood!"

Carelessly, Jean threw herself onto the sofa in the dimly lit living room, more anxious to tell her sister about what Savannah's house and what she saw there. Despite the fact that she had much more integrity than Stephanie Crawford and the other gossipy women of Maycomb, Jean couldn't help but to feel like such chatterer as she discussed the day's events with her sister.


	7. Chapter 7

In the passing weeks, Frank's condition had gotten to be so poor that he couldn't even stand with assistance anymore and he couldn't eat solid foods. The sisters had placed a cot next to his bed, and they took turns sleeping in his room with him in case anything should happen in the middle of the night. Despite his increasingly hostile attitude, the nurse that came to visit was now coming more frequently, anticipating his near death. However, although Frank was slowly regressing back to an infantile state, it still seemed as though he was going to live forever. He had become so needy that Jean and Louise had very little opportunity to leave Buford Place, so the pair was surprisingly very thankful when Alexandra would stop by every day, bringing necessities and making sure Frank was alright. Jean never thought that she would ever be relieved to see Alexandra Hancock on a daily basis, but she certainly was appreciative for her help.

In addition to Alexandra's daily visits, Atticus began to visit the Buford Place more frequently. Most of the time, he would sit with Frank in his room for nearly an hour, and regardless of how happy Atticus had made him in the past, Frank had remained fairly miserable during these visits. Jean never knew what the two men talked about upstairs, but Atticus would always return downstairs with a somber expression on his face.

Before their visit to Mrs. Butler, Atticus would typically leave after his visits with Frank. However, after the two of them had spent that day together, he would linger. "Would you like to go for a walk?" He asked one evening, about two weeks after the Mrs. Butler ordeal. She had been washing up the dishes from supper when he asked, and her back had been to him. Quickly drying the plate that was in her hands, she turned, leaning against the sink.

"Now?" She asked.

"Only if you'd like to."

She smiled, tossing her washcloth on the counter. "That would be nice." She said.

The two of them walked towards the front door. "I'll be back." She said to Louise, who was sprawled out on the couch, reading.

"Mm-hmm," she replied dreamily. Alexandra had provided supper for that evening, and in spite of Louise's dislike for the woman, she was incredibly fond of Alexandra's cooking.

"Don't you need a coat?" Atticus asked as she opened the front door. Defiantly, she shook her head.

"I reckon I'm fine." She said.

"It's winter." He said plainly as they stepped onto the porch.

"I appreciate your astute observation, but I'm promise I'll cope just fine."

"If you believe so." He smiled.

The only route she had ever taken around the Buford Place was the one that Alexandra showed her and Louise when they first moved onto the property. Jean was aware of how large and expansive the land around the two properties were, but never had much opportunity to explore. She always seemed to forget that Atticus had been born and raised here, and knew the property quite well. He brought her down a path that led down to an expansive river. She would never let him know, but she was beginning to strongly regret not bringing something to cover up with.

"Would you like to cover up?" He asked, beginning to take his suit jacket off.

"I'm still fine," she lied, smiling at him.

Due to his frequent visits to the Buford Place, Jean had come under the impression that Atticus' work had begun to slow down a little, allowing him the time for these visits. However, looking at him standing by the river, she had begun to think that perhaps she had been mistaken. He looked tired, and had bags under his eyes that indicated that he probably had late nights full of working and catching up.

"It's awfully nice for you to visit with grandad so often." She observed, smiling at him.

"It's certainly not a burden," he responded, putting his hands in his pockets. He observed her wrapping her arms around herself in an attempt to warm herself up. "Are you sure you don't need a jacket? You're looking mighty cold."

"Well aren't you the perfect gentleman?" She teased. "Not only do you make grandad's day every time you visit, but you make sure the ladies of Maycomb are always warm."

"You're very stubborn." He told her, smiling. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"You're good at statin' the obvious, too." She joked. "I certainly do believe you can do it all."

He chuckled at her, and looked off into the river. She wasn't sure if he was laughing to be nice or simply to fill a void. For all she knew, she was probably annoying the hell out of him. But then, why would he invite her to go off for the walk?

"Is Zandra nice to you?" He asked after a few minutes of silence, he was still looking off at the river.

"I suppose so, she treats me like everyone else." Jean replied, suddenly thinking about the time Alexandra called her and Louise miserable. She held her tongue.

"She has the tendency to be very high-strung." Atticus said straightforwardly, making Jean laugh.

"Oh, I've noticed."

"But she treats you good, right?"

"There was that one time she called me miserable," Jean blurted out, trying to sound humorous. "But other than that she treats me just fine."

When Atticus looked at her, she immediately regretted what she said. "She called you miserable?"

She straightened up as if she was in trouble for something. "Well, not like I'm miserable company to be with or anything," she said quickly, shrugging. "Just plain old miserable…she said Louise was, too." Now she rambling. If he didn't think she was a fool before, he probably thought it now.

"In any context, it wasn't very considerate." He told her.

"Oh, well, I didn't mind much. I suppose there are worse things I can be than miserable." She reassured him, feeling her face flush hot with embarrassment. She was probably red. "Sorry."

"For what?"

"I don't know, I just am."

"You shouldn't be."

She exhaled and bit her lower lip. "Do you reckon you're feelin' cold?" He asked, watching her fidget. "You're shaking."

"I suppose I am." She said. "But you don't need to give me your jacket."

"Why not?"

"You'll be cold, then."

"I'll be alright," he assured her as he took his suit jacket off. She had expected him to hand it to her for her to put it on herself, but instead he helped her in it. As she once again wrapped her arms around herself, he chuckled. "You're quite the sight."

"Thanks." She scowled as she buried her face in the jacket's collar. It smelled of him, but what he smelled like she couldn't quite detect.

She stood there for a few moments, taking in the warmth that came from the jacket. "Did you use to come here as a kid?" She asked, still finding it difficult to think of Atticus at any age besides thirty.

He nodded. "I did," he said, scuffing at the ground with the tip of his shoe. "I used to play down here when I was younger, and when I was old enough your granddaddy taught me to shoot a gun here."

Jean smiled, and it finally struck her that Atticus truly was fond of Frank. "Do you shoot often?"

"Not much anymore," he replied, looking at her again. "Frank helped me get quite good, but it just wasn't something that was enjoyable to me."

"You know, _I_ shoot." She told him, trying to suppress a laugh.

"Do you now?" He asked, seeming very amused by her.

"Well I shot once." She corrected, grinning as she snickered. "Ever since we were kids, Louise and I always dared each other to do things, and we always have to complete the dare or else something bad would happen—"

"What happens?"

"I don't know, we always do the dare." She replied as he chuckled. "Usually the dares aren't too bad. But when I was ten, after my daddy died and we were movin' to the house we live in now, my mother left Louise and I to our own devices. My daddy had quite the impressive gun collection, and my mother didn't know what to do with it when he died, so she brought it to the new house with us and didn't lock 'em up like he used to. Well, mama told us to stay out of her hair so Louise comes out with one of his big guns and dares me to shoot at a tree. As her older sister, I _obviously_ had to say yes to this so I grab the gun and position it like my daddy used to and shot it. Anyways, I did it wrong and somethin' happened and the next thing I know the thing blew up in my face and broke my nose. Louise was hollerin' like somebody killed her, I thought I was dyin' and there was blood everywhere, and that's why there's this big bump in the middle of my nose and it's crooked. My mother and all three of my sisters have perfect little noses and I look like the changelin' in the middle of 'em all."

Before she had even finished her story, Atticus was laughing harder than she ever thought he could. At the sight of him, she couldn't help but to laugh along with him. "You seem like a right ol' professional." He said, still laughing. "I'm sure your family was certainly impressed."

She wiped at her eyes as she continued to laugh. "Absolutely," she said, trying to (but failing) sound serious. "Why, my mother was so impressed she sent me and Louise to an all-girls school where we could be fashioned into the perfect ladies."

Atticus laughed again. "I see those efforts paid off," he said seriously. "Especially for Louise."

"She was nothin' but a model student." Jean nodded, the smile still big on her face.

Atticus went silent again, though the smile seemed to remain on his face for ages. Looking more seriously, he asked. "What do you suppose will happen?"

"Happen when?" She asked back, confused. He turned to her and she couldn't help but to notice that the expression on his face was somber.

"When Frank passes," he continued slowly.

"I'm not sure." She said, still perplexed by what he was asking.

"Would you like to stay in Maycomb?"

"I reckon I don't have a reason to," she said. "I'll probably go back to Montgomery and help my sister with her children."

He went quiet for a moment and looked at the ground. "Are you close to them?"

"Very," she said, and couldn't help but smile when she thought about the kids. "I spent nearly every day I could with them since my nephew was born."

"They must be very lucky to have you as an aunt." He remarked, smiling kindly. She, on the other hand, froze.

When he said that it struck her that she was watching them when Simon died. They couldn't be _that_ lucky. She coughed.

"Thank you." She said stiffly, shoving her hands in Atticus' coat pockets.

"Are they young?" He was trying to make pleasant conversation, and meanwhile her heart was nearly beating out of her chest.

"Clara is four and Elizabeth will be one soon." She said bluntly, looking away from him.

"What about your nephew?" He asked, genuinely sounding interested. That didn't matter to her, though, it was like Simon was haunting her. With Alexandra Hancock as his sister, Jean had fully expected Atticus to be aware of what happened to Simon that previous summer.

"He's dead." She divulged, a little louder than she intended to. She felt herself turn redder by the second. Too ashamed to look at Atticus, she concentrated on looking at her foot as she attempted to dig a hole in the ground with it. She heard him come closer to her, but still couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"I didn't know," he told her, and she knew he meant it. "I'm sorry."

She stood there, trying to catch her breath when she suddenly looked up at him. She blinked back tears forming in her eyes and stated: "I killed him."

In turn, Atticus looked shocked and then confused. Furrowing his eyebrows, he opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but then closed it. Instead, he adjusted his glasses and continued to look at her. She couldn't tell if he thought she was crazy or was feeling sorry for her—maybe it was a mixture of both. "I didn't murder him or anything," she sniffed, a frown forming on her face. "I was watchin' him."

It was like she had erupted. Something inside of her had snapped and she found herself standing in front of this man she met just a few months ago, weeping, telling him everything about that day last summer where everything changed. She told him of the guilt, of how she suspected Stephanie Crawford of making up ridiculous stories about her, about how Alexandra lamented on how terrible the death of a child was. She gave him no time to interrupt or say anything. Forgetting about how he had once referred to her as 'socially graceful' she allowed herself to completely unravel before him like a ball of string. She told him how it ruined Charlotte and ruined her brother-in-law and now her children were collectively being raised by various members of her family, and it was _all her damned fault_ for stepping away for just _one second_. She explained that even though she didn't say anything, her mother most certainly blamed her for what happened, and frequently looked at Jean like she was a complete stranger. She told him about how Charlotte's husband cut the tree from which Simon was playing on down himself in the middle of the night, waking the entire neighborhood with the sounds of his grief and how Charlotte always drank and never left her room and seemed to forget her other children. She wept about how her bright, cheerful nephew was going to be stuck at six forever and she was the last one to see him alive and the first one to see him dead and sometimes when she closed her eyes all she could see was him on the ground with his snapped neck and Clara wailing as if she was about to die, too. She was reduced to shambles as she told him things she hadn't told anyone, not even Louise or Harriet, and certainly not Edith. Everything that hid within the depths of her mind came out, almost uncontrollably.

Then she thought about Frank dying, and cried some more. She wasn't sure if she was mourning the inevitable demise of her grandfather, or the fact that she was going to have to return back to Montgomery and Charlotte and her nieces and all of her friends who never quite treated her the same way after it happened. She would rather have five teas with Alexandra each day than have to face them again and have to resume her old life. At least here she had Maudie, had the slow, quaint quietness of the town (even though it bored her it left her feeling calm). Here it was just her and Louise, living peacefully, never having to worry about Edith or their aunts or Charlotte…

She pushed the palms of her hands so deep into her eyes that she began to see little flecks of light. "I'm sorry," she said, completely unaware of how Atticus was responding. Was she apologizing to him, for behaving in such an irrational way, or was she apologizing to everyone she had ever wronged? "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

He was so silent, Jean could've sworn he had left while she wasn't looking. But, with her hands still covering her eyes she felt him grab her shoulders firmly. She sniffed, and felt ashamed. Although she was still wrapped in his suit jacket, she felt cold.

He loosened his grip on her a little and she removed her hands from her eyes. Blinking to adjust back to her surroundings, she realized the melancholy expression on his face. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, instead he swallowed.

"You must think I'm ridiculous," she said, her voice thick from crying, she didn't sound like herself anymore.

"I hardly think that."

"Mr. Finch," she started, not sure why she reverted to addressing him in such a formal manner. He stopped her.

"In my years of being a lawyer, I've encountered many people guilty of committing terrible actions." He told her. "You should not, in any circumstance, consider yourself blameworthy for _anything_."

When she didn't respond, he continued speaking. "In instances where terrible things occur, it's human nature to immediately associate blame to something or someone. You were there, you became the culprit. However, just because you were there does not mean you are culpable."

"I walked away."

"You told him not to do it." Atticus retorted. "For goodness' sake, he was a child. Children are apt to do things that are a detriment to them. Why, you were a child when you shot that gun."

"That's entirely different."

"But it's not. Perhaps things went a little differently? You were a ten year old shooting a gun that you were not supposed to be touching—you could have died yourself if you were handlin' it just a little bit differently. Would Louise then be guilty of killing you since she dared you to shoot it?"

Jean couldn't help but to gasp. "Of course not! She didn't _make_ me do it."

"You didn't push your nephew. You didn't kill him." He said, matter-of-factly, almost as if he was telling her the weather or something else incredibly mundane. She sniffed and looked down at their feet. She felt his grip on her shoulders tighten before he let her go. He smiled sadly at her before walking closer to the river. For a few moments, she stood there, frozen by what had just happened. Watching him stand there, she scurried closer to where he was.

"Why did you ask about what would happen when grandad dies?" She asked, burrowing herself deeper into his jacket. Her voice still didn't quite sound like her own.

"I suppose for a completely selfish reason," he started, watching the water. "I'll be sad to see you leave."

Once again, the breath got caught in her throat, but this time it wasn't a bad feeling. In spite of her swollen eyes and tear-stained face, she smiled at him. Through the corner of his eye he got a glimpse of her and returned the smile. "You're quite the sight." He said, chuckling softly.

"I reckon I am."

"Would you like to go home now?"

"No."

Impulsively, she stood closer to him and she watched as he rubbed his hands together. He was probably freezing by now. "Would you like to go?" She asked.

"No." He said flatly, looking her up and down. Noticing that she was shivering, despite the fact that she was still wearing his jacket, he seamlessly put his arm around her shoulders. She felt relieved.


	8. Chapter 8

Despite the increasing amount of work that he had to do, Atticus visited the Buford Place nearly every day after their first walk by the river. After she confided in Atticus about Simon, he began to spend increasingly longer periods of time with her. They would still walk, taking that now familiar route to stand by the river, but as it was getting colder (and Jean still refused to bring a coat) they would often spend their time doing other things. Most of the time, they would retreat into Franks old study, observing the dirty books that lined the shelves and read together. They would sit together on the old loveseat, and she would rest her chin on his shoulder and read. Sometimes they'd sit in the dining room where he would read the paper and she would drink tea and he would hold her hand under the table, but that was often times interrupted by Louise running down the stairs, panicking because Frank had stopped breathing. Again.

Whenever Frank would stop breathing, she and Louise would nervously stand there, watching him. One time it took him nearly three whole minutes to regain his breath. No matter how many times it had happened, that sound was always dreadful, terrifying even. It was as if he was trying to suck in all of the air in the room, yet still couldn't breathe. If Atticus happened to be there when it happened, he would tower behind the sisters and all three of them would stand there in silence, holding their own breaths in anticipation.

Christmas was coming. Considering that Frank could not make the trip to Montgomery and could not be left alone, Jean's entire family would be spending nearly two weeks at the Buford Place. Originally, knowing that the Grahams would be in Maycomb, Alexandra invited them over for Christmas dinner. But even that was too much of a risk considering Franks rapidly deteriorating state. Upon telling Edith about it, Jean's mother demanded that she invite Alexandra and her family to the Buford Place for dinner instead. When she voiced her apprehension over the phone, Edith merely scoffed. "Honestly, Eugenia, it's not like _you'll_ be the one entertaining anyway."

But still, there would be almost _twenty_ people at Buford Place on Christmas night, and being forced to be pleasant and personable for such an extended period of time was going to be a challenge (especially for Louise). However, moments after speaking with Edith, Jean made the obligatory call to Alexandra and invited her and her entire family over for Christmas dinner. Of course, she gladly accepted and also offered to help cook since there would be such a high volume of people. At least her food made up for her personality.

Jean couldn't help but to be happy about Atticus' presence at Christmas dinner. She was so used to spending nearly every day with him that she found that she would miss him during the holidays, but now she didn't have to.

She thought, perhaps, that maybe she was in love with him but that was hard for her to tell. The only time she ever thought she loved anybody (besides her family) was a boy named Emmett who proposed to her one day on the school yard shortly before she went away to school. He lived in her neighborhood growing up so he had been her plaything, and dated her once she was old enough and whenever she was back in Montgomery from school. In the two years between her graduating and her moving in with her grandfather, Emmett had become her steady companion. Yet, neither of them ever said they loved each other, it was more like they were ten years old and still each other's playmates and kept each other from being bored. The exact opposite of what Atticus was to her.

He was a little over fifteen years older than her, and was nearing thirty-six. Everything and everyone he approached he did so with professionalism and he took everything seriously (even her when she was being sarcastic). He was a good friend to everyone and treated all he encountered with kindness and respect. Still, the society in which he came from considered him a boring man who only cared about his work and books and would forever be a bachelor. Yet, Jean was very fond of him.

She supposed he was fond of her, too. No, she knew it. Though he didn't say much, whenever they were by the lake he would look at her at length. He _let_ her read over his shoulder when they would seclude themselves in Frank's library, and Jean was quite certain that no one enjoyed when someone read over their shoulder. Though he would hide it under the dining room table, the way he took her hand in his was a sure indication that he thought highly of her (not just _everyone_ held hands, after all). It was like his life was still completely normal, just with her added in. There was no big change about him, he still worked, read and lived like he used to. The only thing that was different was that he let her in.

Still, she wasn't quite sure what _this_ was. Yes, they spent nearly every day together, held hands, read together, and talked about nearly everything, but she wasn't sure if this was some sort of new normal in her life or a routine that would surely dissipate once she returned to Montgomery. She didn't want to think about that, though she knew it was inevitable.

With only a few days until their family was to arrive for the holiday, Jean and Louise diligently sat in the dining room polishing the silverware. Thankfully, Frank's nurse was spending more time at the house with him, giving the girls enough time to take care of these menial tasks. As usual, Atticus had come by that evening. Since Frank was getting sicker, Atticus' visits with him were getting longer, but he still made sure to spend almost an equal amount of time with Jean. She couldn't help but to feel guilty, he was a busy man after all, but she was still thankful that he made time to see her.

Louise sighed as she picked up a knife to polish, and Jean couldn't help but to giggle because she knew how much Louise detested doing _anything_ related to homemaking (Louise was often punished at school because of this fact, probably adding to her hatred of household tasks). "At least mama or our teachers aren't here, watchin' you over their shoulder." Jean said.

"It ain't that," Louise responded, sighing melodramatically once again. "I could've sworn we were goin' to be spinsters together!"

Jean furrowed her brow. "What in the hell are you talkin' about?" She asked, thinking Louise was crazy. "You're barely nineteen! You can't be considered a spinster at least until you're thirty-five."

"You should very well know by now that I have full intentions on bein' a spinster. I'll have my playthings but I'd very much rather be alone." She said, and Jean couldn't help but to laugh at her sister. "But that's beside the point. I was well under the impression that you and I were goin' to be spinsters together, livin' out of our suitcases and travelin' all over God's creation, makin' fun of people."

Jean snorted. "I certainly didn't know you thought of such plans," she said. "A word to the wise: if you're going to include another person in your life dream, maybe let them know first."

Louise glared at her sister, but Jean could tell that she wasn't being entirely serious about what she was saying. "It's fine," she taunted, throwing her hands in the air. "I'm goin' by myself now since soon enough you'll be poppin' out Atticus Finch's babies and becoming his little homebody."

Jean nearly choked as Louise howled with laughter, clearly quite impressed with herself. "You've always been the most imaginative one out of all of us."

Louise gave Jean a serious look. "Are you in so much denial that you are completely oblivious to what goes on _every day_?"

"What do you mean?"

Louise grunted in frustration. What had originally been harmless teasing was now becoming one of her little life lessons she gave whenever she thought people were being senseless. "I suppose you read with your head on Atticus' shoulder and let him hold your hand and take those long walks while you wear his jacket just because it's extremely neighborly."

"I, well…"

"Honey, I'm fully aware that us being secluded from the opposite sex for so long has made us both quite bizarre but frankly you and him strut around this place like you're married!"

"We don't _strut_."

"Is that really what you're concerned about?"

"I'm not concerned about anything." Jean said, concentrating on her polishing.

"I wouldn't be if I were you, either, your husband will take care of everything for you." Louise smirked, making Jean scowl.

"You're acting like a schoolgirl." She sneered as Louise cackled.

"A _schoolgirl_?! Boy, bein' committed to someone sure does censure ya." She winked.

"I'm not co—"

"You never acted this way around Emmett," Louise pointed out, and Jean couldn't deny that she was right. "You certainly do not treat Atticus Finch as some sort of plaything you toss around carelessly."

For once, Jean had nothing to say to Louise. She continued to polish the spoon in her hand as her sister clicked her tongue. "I sure do feel bad for you," she said, shaking her head. "You'll be forced to be even closer to Alexandra."

-o-o-o-o-

Since the weather permitted, Jean and Atticus had decided to take a walk together before he left for the night. It was nearly dark, considering that the sun was setting earlier each passing evening and also because Atticus had come late that day. Guiltily, she told him that he didn't need to feel obligated to come each night, that Frank would understand, but he dismissed it. During that exchange, Louise had been watching the pair from the sofa, and rolled her eyes at her sister as she was saying this to Atticus. "He's a grown man," she said. "Let him do what he wants." Jean was sure to shoot her sister a glare before they left the house.

"When is your family coming?" He asked her once they got to the river.

"In three days," Jean responded. "My mother was adamant on coming early in order to repair any of the damage Louise and I have caused to the house."

"I think the house is in pretty good condition," he observed.

"I sure hope so. However, according to my mother, if everything isn't exactly the way it was when it was set, than it's ruined. She can detect a fleck of dust or a scratch in furniture from a mile away. She also has a real knack for pointing out every flaw she sees in a room in a matter of minutes."

"She seems like a real treat." Atticus said pleasantly, making her laugh.

"Is your brother comin' home for Christmas?" She asked, even though she already knew the answer. When she called on Alexandra to invite her over, the other woman had panicked, asking if it would be too much if her brother and her sister (as well as her family) also came along. In a fashion that would make Edith herself proud, Jean had merely chuckled that off and exclaimed: "Why of course not! The more the merrier, it'll be a real celebration!"

"Comin' in the day before Christmas Eve," Atticus confirmed. "He'll be spending the week with me. He used to stay with Zandra while he was still in school, but he found that spending the entire holiday with both her and Caroline made him drink so much he was completely useless before Christmas even came."

"Is Caroline like Alexandra?" She asked, amused.

"Oh no, no." He said, shaking his head. "While they are both high-strung, Caroline is only that way in order to make Alexandra miserable. In actuality, Caroline is considerably more relaxed than Zandra. But, put the two of them together and you'll surely wish you were somewhere else."

Jean couldn't help but to feel joy in the fact that there were three people that completely unhinged Alexandra Hancock: her siblings. Back when Charlotte was her usual self, Jean and Louise possessed that same power over their older sister. "The holidays sure are joyous." She commented as he chuckled at her.

"It was very kind of your family to invite us," he said, smiling at her. "Are you sure it isn't a burden?"

Jean rolled her eyes. "Well, considerin' the fact that I had fully intended on murdering my grandfather and runnin' away from Alabama during the holiday, I figure you could say that my plans have been dramatically altered. But I guess spendin' time with y'all is nice, too."

"And where were you planning on going, once you successfully got away with murdering your grandfather?" He asked curiously.

She threw her hands in the air. "Anywhere that'll get me away from pesterin' lawyers," She winked. "Europe, somewhere, I guess I wasn't going to know 'till I got there. I was just plannin' on living out of my suitcase and eating and seeing everything."

"That seems as though it would get rather lonely." He remarked.

"I reckon I would've managed," she replied. "Why, I'd have to since I'd be on the run."

"Would you bring someone with you?" He asked. She almost responded by saying Louise, but bit her tongue.

"Like who? If I'm wanted for murder, I probably wouldn't be able trust many people." She teased.

"Well, what about me?" He suggested. Despite the fact that this entire conversation hypothetical and downright ridiculous, he sounded serious.

"You?" She asked, playfully sounding shocked. "You're a lawyer! You would be morally obligated to turn me in for my crime."

"I suppose that's a problem." He added as he nodded. She couldn't help but to smile to herself.

There were times, whenever she was with him, when he would go silent. It wasn't an overwhelming silence, though, but actually a comfortable one. Sometimes she wondered about what was going through his head. For a man who lived quite a simple life, it seemed as though he had much to think about. She couldn't help but to hope that maybe, when he would get this way, he was thinking about her.

In these times, she stood close to him. She wouldn't touch him, but she would stand close enough for him to take her hand or touch her shoulder or flick a stray piece of hair away from her face. She never initiated anything, she didn't want to seem too needy or too suffocating, she always allowed him to make the first move.

As it was now dark, she wondered what he was looking at as he stared straight ahead. There were dim lights from both the Buford Place and Finch Landing that ensured that this area wouldn't be entirely pitch black, it was still difficult to see much. Suddenly, he looked at her and smiled. "I'm fond of this." He told her, but she wasn't quite sure what _this_ was.

"Of what?"

"Can I tell you something?" He asked, leaving her even more perplexed.

"Of course."

"It sounds terrible, but I've lost interest in seeing Frank a while ago." He confessed as she felt her stomach drop.

"You surely shouldn't feel compelled to come, then." She said, trying to hide her disappointment. "Why, he's so ill he probably doesn't even notice you're here anyway."

The expression on his face became more serious. "Perhaps I've worded that wrong," he said slowly. "I mean, I've stopped coming here to see Frank a while ago."

"Then why do you come?"

"To see you."

She felt a sudden rush of warmness on her face as she tried to stop herself from smiling. "Really?" She asked, almost dumbly.

"Actually, now that you've asked, I've actually been coming to see Louise." He said dryly.

"Obviously you are, her sarcasm is rubbing off on you." She remarked, laughing as she crossed her arms.

"I'm fond of you," he said, returning to his serious demeanor.

Again, he was looking at her. He moved as if he was about to put his arm around her to shield her from the cold (as he usually did when they walked in the evenings), but decided against it. She inhaled slowly.

"I would let you run away with me and live out of my suitcase when I'm on the run." She stated matter-of-factly. She smiled to herself, thinking of Louise's theatrical reaction if her sister ever found out Jean said this to Atticus rather than her. "I figure I'd miss you too much if I did otherwise."

Again, he was smiling. Instead of putting his arm around her shoulder, he wrapped it around her waist.


	9. Chapter 9

The first thing Edith said as she barged through the door five days before Christmas was: "the paint is chippin' on the front door and one of the steps have gone loose." The second thing was: "what in the _hell_ are you doin' Louise?"

In the usual Edith fashion, their mother (and the rest of their family) arrived to the Buford Place a day earlier than she said she would. That afternoon, before their arrival, Alexandra had kindly offered to sit with Frank if the girls wanted to go into town for a little while to run some errands. Both sisters were rather ashamed to admit that they were growing quite stir crazy sitting by Frank day after day (even Atticus' visits weren't helping to ease the listlessness Jean was beginning to feel), but eagerly accepted Alexandra's proposition. While Alexandra stiffly sat by Frank's beside, Jean and Louise went into town to purchase gifts for Christmas. Jean and Louise fully intended to savor this time of freedom, but couldn't help but to feel guilty about leaving Frank for so long. As a result of this, the girls made hasty decisions about what to purchase for their family. The only gift Jean spent a considerable amount of thought on was the book of poetry she decided to purchase for Atticus. Even then, she had to rush as Louise impatiently watched her.

Now, hours after their excursion, the two sisters were sprawled out on the living room floor wrapping the gifts they had bought. Jean, who always carefully and deliberately wrapped everything, was fully concentrated on ensuring that the book of poetry was wrapped immaculately. Louise, on the other hand, was impatiently trying to smooth out the wrinkled paper on one of her gifts. "Wrappin'." Louise grunted, not looking at the herd of family that was standing in the parlor.

"You might as well leave them under the tree bare," Edith remarked. "It'll mean no difference considering how poorly they're looking."

Propping herself up on her elbows, Louise looked up at her mother. Before she could respond with a snide remark, their niece Clara exclaimed: "Aunty!" and threw herself on the floor between her aunts. Laughing, obviously ignoring her mother's remarks, Louise engulfed the child in a hug. Pushing her own wrapping away from her, Jean poked at her giggling niece's back. "Jeannie!" Clara said as she moved from Louise to Jean.

"Down, _down_!" Baby Elizabeth demanded from Harriet's arms. Ignoring the fact that the rest of her family was also in the room, Jean shot up with Clara in her arms and greeted her other niece. "Mamamamama," Elizabeth gurgled, making Jean pause.

"She says that to everyone," Harriet said so only Jean could hear. "Except her own mother, that is."

-o-o-o-

In the days leading up to Christmas, Atticus did not visit the Buford House. Kindly, he had warned Jean of this, explaining that with all of her family arriving he didn't want to impose himself, plus there was a lot of loose ends he needed to tie up when it came to work. Childishly, she wanted to object, to ask him to continue coming but ultimately decided against it, as she feared coming across as too needy. With his absence, it was almost as if she had been transported back to Montgomery. Each morning she had tea and breakfast with Harriet, Louise and her aunts while Charlotte remained in her room. As usual, Edith woke at an ungodly hour and would spend her morning fixing whatever imperfections she saw in the house and taking care of Frank. Edith had a knack for staying busy even when it appeared as though there was little that needed to be done. Begrudgingly, Jean's aunts would assist their sister in tending after their father, leaving Jean and her sisters with the children for most of the day, or until Edith gave them something to do.

On the third day of their trip, a few days before Christmas Eve, Jean could tell that her nieces were bored in the house. Despite the vast amount of space, Edith had confined her granddaughters to the parlor to play. "We're goin' to take them outside," Jean declared that afternoon, after carefully bundling the girls up. "They're goin' crazy in here."

Edith, who was fixing a flower arrangement in the dining room, looked at Jean for a moment with alarm. Sighing, she finally said: "alright, but don't stray too far. It'd be a shame if they got sick so close to Christmas."

"We'll be careful." Jean responded as she bounced Elizabeth on her hip. _I'll make sure they don't snap their necks_.

With Louise and Harriet in tow, Jean led them to the spot by the river that Atticus showed her, figuring that it would be a nice change of scenery for the kids. "Hell," Louise said, grasping onto Clara's hand. "I didn't even know this was here!"

"Aw, hell!" Clara chimed back, causing Louise to laugh.

"Stop that," Jean said. "Or she'll think she's supposed to say it."

"It'll keep Edie on her toes." Louise winked.

"This is nice," Harriet smiled as she took her shoes off, despite the cold. "This is much prettier than Montgomery! How'd ya know to come down this way?"

Suddenly, Louise had a devilish grin on her face. "Oh I know," she said, crossing her arms. "Is this where you and Atticus go when you go for _walks_? I must say, this is a cute little spot for a _stroll_."

Harriet's eyes widened. "Who's this Atticus?" She asked, giggling, reminding Jean just how young her little sister was.

"Yeah, who's that?" Clara chimed in. Whenever she was with her aunts, she always attempted to act grown up with them.

"He's a friend," Jean said firmly.

"He's your new uncle!" Louise gushed, looking down at Clara.

"Will you _stop that_? You're going to make her run around sayin' things!" Jean said.

"Might as well start 'em young," Louise shrugged. "We can't have women like Alexandra Hancock roamin' all over, we need some girls with an attitude!"

"Now who's _that_?" Harriet asked, furrowing her brow. "Sometimes I really hate the fact that you two get to do everything together!"

Louise made a face as she spun Clara around. Watching from Jean's arms, Elizabeth giggled. "Alexandra's no different than the teachers at that damn school." Louise remarked. "She wears a corset every day and her face is always pinched. You'll have the pleasure of meetin' her on Christmas. You'll get to meet your future brother-in-law, too—Alexandra's his sister."

"O-oh," Harriet teased, batting her eyes at Jean. "This sounds awfully serious."

"He told Jean he loved her." Louise nodded as Harriet gasped.

"He did _not_." Jean said, bouncing Elizabeth around. "He said he was fond of me."

"That's basically the same thing as far as Atticus is concerned!" Louise exclaimed. "Harriet, this man is the most _serious_ man I ever met. Even when he's jokin' it sounds like he's talkin' 'bout the weather! _Fond_ was probably his gentlemanly way of saying he was head over heels in love with you."

"He already sounds better than Big Simon," Harriet said, using the nickname they gave Charlotte's husband once their nephew was born.

"Where the hell is he, anyway?" Louise demanded.

"Dammit, Simon!" Clara said, cheerfully. Jean glared at Louise, who flashed her a grin. However, Jean couldn't help but to think that for once her niece did not pick that up from Louise.

"Are you kiddin'? Did mama not tell you?" Harriet asked, seriously. "Cover Clara's ears."

"What?" Louise asked, looking at Harriet as though she was insane.

"Just cover 'em, mama always does when she talks about this." Jean watched as Louise kneeled next to her niece, muttered sorry, and pressed her hands over Clara's ears. "Personally, I don't think that works but—"

"Get on with it! She's squirmin' already!"

"Well," Harriet said in a fashion that reminded Jean of Stephanie Crawford. "Shortly after y'all left, Big Simon apparently told Charlotte he wanted to move them all off to Mississippi because he would get better work there but Charlotte downright _refused_. So he moved down there himself and sends her checks monthly while mama and our aunts basically run her house. He was 'posed to come for Christmas but at the last minute sent word that he just wouldn't be able to make the trip. Everyone thinks he's too scared to face mama after he ran off like that but I think he has another woman, honestly." Harriet spoke quickly, observing the fact that Clara was beginning to whine from being covered up. Jean and Louise stared at their sister in shock.

"Damn," Louise said, shaking her head as she released Clara's ears. Happy to be released, Clara sat on the ground and began to occupy herself with some pebbles that surrounded her. "Edie must be livid."

"That's just awful," Jean remarked.

"It's not even like Charlotte cares," Harriet said. "Why, she hides like she usually does."

Louise cleared her throat. "Well, Jean, at least you know Atticus could basically do _anything_ and still be better than that."

"Anyone's better than that," Jean scowled. "It's disgustin' how someone can be downright awful."

"We shouldn't talk about it, the children repeat everything." Harriet whispered before she smiled playfully at Elizabeth. "Have you told mama 'bout Atticus?" She asked, an impish smile on her face.

"I haven't," Jean said as she began bouncing Elizabeth, who was beginning to get cold.

"Why not?!" Louise nearly yelled. "You know she'll absolutely _kill_ you if you don't."

"There's nothin' she needs to know right now." Jean shrugged. "I figured I would just introduce them to each other once he comes for Christmas."

"Are you kiddin'?" Louise scoffed. "That'll work out just perfectly. I can see it now: he'll hold your hand or somethin' and mama will see and basically tear his head off. Don't you remember when she found out that you used to sneak off after dark with Emmett while she thought you were sleeping?"

"I didn't sneak off! I just…didn't tell her I was leaving. And that is completely different than holdin' hands with someone."

"Not if you're Edith Graham," Harriet said as Louise nodded. "Why, I still remember that day where she made Emmett so scared that he would pick you up down the street instead of at home so he wouldn't have to see her. Also, don't you remember she made my friend Matthew cry when we were kids?"

"Simon never could look her in the eye, even when he was in in her good graces." Louise added. "I don't think it matters that Atticus is a nice man, she will find somethin' wrong with him, and let him know it. You should at least give her fair warning, she's even worse when she's surprised."

"Nanny hates surprises," Clara said innocently, looking up at all of her aunts. Louise and Harriet smirked at Jean in response.

-o-o-o-

Once it became too cold for Elizabeth and Clara to stay outside, the Graham sisters quickly made their way back to the Buford Place where Edith and the rest of their family were waiting with supper. "You better just tell her," Louise mumbled before they sat down, Jean shook her head in response.

"Why are you so twitchy?" Edith asked, observing her second daughter.

"Just a chill," Jean replied quickly, avoiding Louise's glare.

Each night since they arrived, Charlotte would always peck at her dinner and excuse herself earlier than the rest of her family. Louise thought it was ridiculous, considering the fact that Edith wouldn't let anyone else leave until they finished what was on their plate. When she muttered something under her breath about how Charlotte received special treatment, Edith shot her a horrifying look.

"You simply don't understand," their mother remarked, not looking at Louise. "This is her first Christmas without Simon."

Jean couldn't help but notice her mother looking at her as she spoke. When Edith's eyes met Jean's, she quickly look away. Jean felt stung by this, but refused to let herself feel guilty. _You're not to blame_ she thought to herself repeatedly.

"I understand that," Louise said, almost sounding impatient. "But you just _baby_ her all of the time."

"She lost a child, Louise, I know you can't understand that, but it's hard." As Edith said this, Jean heard her aunts sighing, as if this was something they heard often.

"People lose loved ones all of the time." Louise hissed. "And not all of them shut down like she did. I distinctly remember you actin' exactly the same as you always did when daddy died."

"I'm goin' to take the girls…" Harriet said nervously, rising from her chair. No one paid her any mind as she took both of her nieces and left the dining room.

"I know it's difficult for you to realize that not everyone is as apathetic as you are—"

"Apathetic, ha! If I'm apathetic I've learned it from _you_." Louise chided. " _You're_ the one who tells everyone but you're darlin' Charlotte to _stop their cryin' and be useful!_ How is it that you can be _completely_ stone cold—"

"Louise," their Aunt Beatrice said, clearing her throat. "That's enough."

Louise looked wounded. Her face was beat red and Jean noticed her hands were shaking, and Jean swore she saw her eyes glinting as though she was about to cry in frustration. "I'm goin—"

"Not until you've finished." Edith said coldly. Louise opened her mouth to say something but instead inhaled sharply and looked down at her plate. Louise mumbled an apology that was barely audible and it was evident that she had given up. She of all people knew that you needed to pick and choose your battles with Edith. Feeling bad for her sister, Jean bumped Louise's foot with her own in an attempt to be comforting.

"I-I, I think I'm seein' someone. Like courtin'." Jean then said, making Louise's head shoot up again. At least any negative attention Edith had to give wasn't going to be directed towards her sister anymore. Instead of watching for Edith's reaction, Jean looked at her aunts, who were beginning to look amused. Besides Sarah, Edith was the only one of her siblings who had children, so Jean's Aunts Beatrice and Adelaide were always invested in their niece's lives.

" _What—_ "Edith began, looking downright annoyed.

Beatrice smirked. "I knew movin' here would do you some good."

"Who is it?" Adelaide winked. "Some strappin' young thing from town?"

"I would hardly say that," Louise laughed, her voice sounding thick.

"If this is some attempt for me to forget about your sister's behavior—"

"His name's Atticus Finch," Jean said. "He's from—"

"Are you playin' with us?" Beatrice asked, now laughing.

"How do _you_ know him?" Adelaide asked her sister, looking confused.

"Don't be daft, Addie," Edith said. "He's Jeremy Finch's boy! They lived on that land right across from us, Finch's Landing. You've must've met him before."

"Let me stir up your memory," Beatrice said to her younger sister. "Once daddy realized he was never gonna have a son, he basically kidnapped Atticus from his family! He can't be more than twelve years younger than you, you had to have been around when he was growin' up."

"Oh!" Adelaide said as she hit her forehead with her palm. "Is he that poor thing daddy taught to shoot even though he _hated_ it?"

"You've got that right," Edith said. "He was too polite to tell daddy he had no interest in killin' things."

"Why, I heard he's been doin' mighty good now." Beatrice said. "I saw him just a few months ago back home! He's in the legislature or somethin' like that…"

"Why are we talkin' about him again?" Adelaide said.

At this point, Louise was now smirking as she watched her mother and aunts talk animatedly amongst themselves. "Because he and Jean are _quite_ serious." She nodded. From underneath the table, she felt Louise gently tap her leg in return—Jean couldn't help but to think that it was her form of thanks. "They go on nice little strolls and hold hands and everything."

Beatrice and Adelaide were giggling amongst themselves. "I can't picture him doin' anything of the sort, he was such a quiet thing."

"You can't be serious," Edith said, genuinely looking perplexed.

"Why's that?" Jean asked.

"Eugenia, he has to be nearly forty now!" Edith said. "You're basically a child compared to him."

"I'm almost twenty-one!" Jean protested. "And he's only thirty-six." As she said this, Jean realized that she probably sounded a little foolish.

"Wasn't daddy older than you?" Louise asked, her smirk still plastered on her face. Despite her jovial appearance, Jean couldn't help but to notice that her sister's hands still shook slightly as she talked. "Like nearly twenty years or somethin' like that?"

"Never you mind that. Times were different when your daddy and I got married."

"Obviously not _too_ different." Addie laughed.

"Oh please, Edie," Beatrice said. "It's not like he can do anything harmful."

"That's not what I'm worried about." Edith replied, and Jean knew her mother was probably thinking that nobody could be worse than Big Simon. "He's basically an old man, what happens if she gets bored with him?"

"I can picture that happenin' with Louise more than with Eugenia," Addie observed.

"That is honestly quite an honor."

"That _won't_ happen." Jean said firmly.

"How do you know that?" Edith asked. "What if you do marry him one day, and then later on decide it was a mistake? What about that boy, Eric or what have you—"

"His name's Emmett," Jean said flatly. "And you _hate_ him."

"But he's your age, he's from where you're from…do you _really_ think you could spend the rest of your life here?" Edith asked. "You're used to Montgomery."

Jean stammered, feeling her face grow hot. From the corner of her eye she could see that Louise was no longer smiling. "Oh, Edie," Louise said, trying to be funny. "You've always been so practical."

"Dear, you're actin' like he proposed to her and they're runnin' off in the morning to get married." Beatrice said, giving her younger sister a look. "Just let them have their fun."

"I don't want my children making unwise decisions." Edith said firmly, and this time it was Jean's turn to give her mother a look.

" _Unwise decisions_?" She asked, nearly laughing. "Mama, then what is Big Simon? I'm pretty sure that's a lesson for all of us."

From the look on Edith's face, Jean expected her mother to really do her in this time. The dining room went silent for a moment as all of the women looked at Edith with apprehension. Instead of getting angry with Jean, Edith covered her face with her hands and laughed, making Louise nearly fall out of her chair.

Uncovering her face and still chuckling to herself, Edith focused her attention on her daughters. "If either of you marry a man like that, I'll kill you both myself."


	10. Chapter 10

Edith said nothing else about Atticus after the family's scene at dinner. Jean wasn't sure if this was Edith just going about her usual business, or whether her mother was choosing to forget about Jean and Atticus all together. While the days leading up to Christmas were full of anxiety for everyone as Edith attempted to make sure that the house was absolutely perfect for their guests, Jean and the rest of her family were pleased to notice that Christmas day itself was much more relaxed, at least until guests were set to arrive.

The day before Christmas Eve, Alexandra, along with her husband and son _and_ her sister's husband had unexpectedly arrived at the Buford Place to drop off some of the food that Alexandra had prepared ahead of time. To Edith's horror Alexandra had come at the time when Louise, in an attempt to clean the gutters by the front entrance, managed to get herself stuck on the roof. It took Caroline's husband, Josiah (also called Joe) nearly ten minutes to coax Louise into jumping off of the roof and into his arms. Needless to say, it wasn't a very pretty moment for anyone involved. According to Edith, that day's shenanigans were a clear indication to her of how Christmas dinner would be.

Jean had expected Christmas day to progress like the others had during Edith's visit, full of chores and keeping busy (and trying to avoid Edith). Much to her delight, however, everything that Edith wanted to get done had been completed and for once none of the women in the house were running about like chickens with their heads cut off. The only thing that needed to be done was to fix the food, which Edith did herself, out of anxiety that one of her sisters or daughters would accidentally tarnish what Alexandra had kindly brought for them.

The only thing that would have made the day even better was if Charlotte had at least tried to enjoy herself. It took Edith nearly an hour to get her oldest daughter out of her room and down by the tree to open gifts with the rest of the family. Even when she was with them, Charlotte sat silently, tear-eyed and sighing occasionally. What really bothered Jean about it was the fact that Clara and Elizabeth were seemingly did not care about the fact that their mother was so inattentive. Jean thought it best not to think of Simon often. Christmas had been his favorite and he had always brightened whatever room he was in. As Edith would say, dwelling on it wouldn't change a thing, just make everyone depressed. Though, Jean couldn't help but be reminded of Simon various times throughout the day (but she wasn't the only one).

However, when Jean's Aunt Sarah and Maudie arrived late that morning, the day was beginning to remind her of the celebrations the family had when Jean was a child, even with Charlotte's poor mood. Even before her father passed, Edith would make a big spread and all of Jean's aunts would come and spend the day. It was simple, but it was one of the memories that Jean was most fond of. This Christmas would be exactly like those days, with the exception of one Alexandra Hancock (and the rest of her family).

Edith had a suspicion that Alexandra would arrive earlier than she said. After all, Alexandra was startlingly similar to Edith when it came to her punctuality. For most of the afternoon, after the family spent a considerable amount of time lounging in the parlor and drinking coffee, she pestered her daughters to get dressed and look appropriate while she fussed with the food and setting the table. Edith's worrying was not done in vain, however, as Alexandra and her family arrived nearly forty-five minutes ahead of schedule.

Snickering to themselves, Jean and Louise hid in the parlor with Maudie while they sent Harriet to answer the door for them. At fifteen, Harriet was easily intimidated by women like Alexandra Hancock, and her older sisters knew that this would be quite the sight. Edith, catching on to what her older daughters were doing, quickly intercepted before Harriet could make a complete fool of herself. Instead of hearing Harriet stuttering, Jean and Louise heard Alexandra and Edith joyously greeting one another.

"I hope you don't mind we came early, Mrs. Graham," Alexandra was saying from the entrance. "I thought it was going to take longer considerin' everyone I was bringing."

"She just wanted to catch her off guard," Maudie whispered. Maudie, Louise and Jean had squeezed themselves onto an old armchair of Franks. "If anyone's more conniving than Stephanie Crawford it's Alexandra Hancock." Louise and Jean laughed.

"Oh, honey, it's perfectly fine." Edith replied smoothly, but Jean knew her mother was itching with anxiety. "I'm so glad all of you were able to make it."

"You're very brave for hosting us all," Jean heard another woman, who must have been Caroline say, laughing. "Especially Jack here, he's the most troubled of all of us."

"'Liney, I'm pretty sure you taught me everything I know." Jack responded.

"Jack Finch, you're so devilish that I don't even know if _you_ can even be held fully accountable for your actions." Maudie hollered from her place in the living room, causing Caroline to laugh once again.

"You shouldn't have said that aloud, Maudie," Caroline said as she entered the parlor. Unlike Alexandra, her features were not as sharp or intimidating—she looked as pleasant as her personality. "It'll give him reason to do whatever the hell he wants."

Jean wished she could see the look on her mother's face when Caroline said this. Clara's eyes perked up as she was about to repeat what Caroline had said, but luckily Aunt Addie quickly covered the girls mouth. Noticing there were children in the room, Caroline looked slightly embarrassed. "Sorry," she said, shrugging slightly. "If it's any consolation, my daughter over here is seven and her first word was d-a-m-n, no joke."

"And you say I'm the bad one?" Jack asked, resting his elbow on his sister's shoulder, making her wince.

"They haven't even been here five minutes and they're already startin'." Joe said as he sat down on the sofa.

"They started the moment Jack was born," Atticus said from the doorway, sounding highly amused.

At this point Alexandra's entire family entered into the parlor, and quickly dispersed themselves. Jimmy, as usual, retreated to the quietest corner of the room while Alexandra, Caroline, Jack and Atticus stayed in the doorway. Henry, watching how Jean, Louise and Maudie decided to seat themselves, sat quietly on the sofa next to Harriet, trying to make small talk. A young girl (who Jean assumed was Caroline's daughter) noticed Clara and Elizabeth and immediately went to them, joining them in playing on the floor. While the living room was of a decent size, it seemed to shrink tremendously, especially considering that Charlotte and Jean's aunts were also already scattered around the room.

Turning his head towards the three women in the chair, Jack beamed. "Maudie, why don't give in and marry me already?"

Maudie rolled her eyes. Though Maudie had always been close to her three cousins, they had quite different childhoods. While the Grahams were growing up in Montgomery with both of their parents, Maudie spend most of her days at the Buford Place with their grandparents. Once Sarah divorced Maudie's father when Maudie was young, she spent most of her time traveling around, leaving Maudie to be mostly raised by her grandparents until she was at least sixteen. The family barely talked about this (it was far too scandalous to even mention), though Edith always remarked that this is why Maudie treated Sarah as a companion, rather than a mother. As a result of this unconventional upbringing, Maudie knew Maycomb and the Finch family incredibly well.

"You have to choose between me and that scotch of yours." She said coolly, smirking at Jack.

"He'll never be able to choose. At least you have one of your loves, brother." Caroline told her brother, shrugging indifferently.

"It's a shame the three of us all can't get along," he winked. Jean couldn't help but to think that Alexandra was looking furious.

"We are guests," Alexandra said slowly, looking at her youngest siblings. "Behave."

"I'm afraid that in all of this excitement none of us have introduced ourselves," Atticus then said, approaching Edith, who had a very flat expression on her face. "I'm Atticus."

He extended his hand for Edith to shake, but for a moment she just looked at him as if she was looking at the economics section of the newspaper. " _Edie, be a lady_ ," Louise whispered in Jean's ear as they watched their mother. As Atticus was about to put his hand down, unsure of what to do, Edith limply placed hers in his and removed it quickly. "Pleasure." She said, looking at him intently. She was nearly a foot shorter than him, but at that moment she looked like a giant. Before introducing himself to the rest of her family, he flashed Jean a quick smile and raised his eyebrows. Smiling back, she shrugged at him.

After this, the room quickly filled with the sound of voices as everyone began introducing themselves to each other. To Jean, it was disorganized and chaotic, and a clear indication that it was going to be a very boisterous evening.

Jean, Maudie and Louise had all struggled to get up from their seat. Once they finally un-wedged themselves, the three girls began to straighten out their dresses. "Ha!" Jack said, clearing his throat. "You gals are quite the sight."

"Well thank you," Maudie said, scowling at him before making her way to greet Jimmy, Henry and Joe.

"I didn't say of _what_." Jack chided.

"Why, you're such a gentleman that I just don't understand how Maudie isn't head over heels for you." Louise said coolly.

"Oh, I bet she is. She's just too shy to show it." Jack retorted, smirking.

"I don't know how you think you're goin' to marry her," Jean said. "If you're under the impression she's shy, then you certainly don't know her at all."

"Poorest foundation for a marriage if I ever did see one," Louise continued.

"Here I was scared that tonight would be borin'," Caroline said as she approached her younger brother. "Keep the three of you together and we'll have dinner and a show!"

"Ha, you're a one person act in itself." Jack responded. "You could easily entertain everyone here on your own."

"The real entertainment will be your sister's reaction to everything," Louise said nonchalantly. It had become a personal goal of hers to see just how riled up she could get Alexandra Hancock.

"I think she would combust," Caroline said seriously, nodding her head. "All day today, and the entire time it took us to walk here, she warned us about etiquette and behavin' ourselves like we were a bunch of children."

"So naturally I'm going to make her life as difficult as possible." Jack said.

"Naturally," Caroline agreed.

"Edie over there has been doing the same thing all week," Louise said. "So if we could make them both squirm at once, it'll be like killing two birds with one stone."

Jacks eyes glinted with enjoyment. "It is Christmas, after all. We can't just grace one person with our humor, we better spread it all around."

"If you could at least wait until after dinner to unleash your torture on Alexandra, I'm sure it would be greatly appreciated." Atticus remarked as he approached his siblings. His voice dipped to a whisper. "You know how she gets, everyone will be miserable for the rest of the evening."

Jean smiled at him and he returned it. "Your family's quite lovely." He added.

"I guess you could say that," Jean said pleasantly.

"Maybe if you squint real hard," Louise added. "I, on the other hand, see a big mess."

"Ha! This is the cleanest house I've ever seen," Jack responded, making Louise roll her eyes.

"Not a _literal_ mess," she hissed, crossing her arms. "They're all insane."

"And you're not?" Jack retorted.

"I never said that."

"The two of them should be kept far away from each other," Jean said, nodding her head towards Louise and Jack. "Surely the nature of their conversations will cause both my mother and Miss Alexandra to go into fits."

Caroline shrugged. "That's why we should keep them together, don't ya think?" She asked, looking at her older brother.

"Well," he said thoughtfully. "It _isn't_ Christmas unless someone has a fit. That just wouldn't be normal."

Since Alexandra and the rest of the company had arrived so early, the food still had some time to go until it was done. Not knowing what to do with themselves, everybody (nearly _twenty_ people) remained in the parlor, talking amongst themselves. Probably overwhelmed by the amount of people present, Charlotte retreated upstairs using the excuse that she was going to go sit with Frank since she felt so guilty that he was up there alone. Knowing that her daughter was probably lying, Edith quickly followed Charlotte (plus, someone _actually_ needed to check on poor Frank). Caroline, probably realizing that their mother hardly paid attention to them anymore, sat on the floor with the children and played with them enthusiastically. Despite the fact that she didn't say it, Alexandra was obviously worried about the state of the food and retreated into the kitchen to tend to it. With the two sternest members of both families out of the room, it seemed as though complete chaos was going to ensue. Jean, honestly feeling overwhelmed by how many people were occupying the room, went to see if Alexandra needed any help. As usual, the older woman declined and said she could handle it herself, forcing Jean to retreat back into the parlor. When she came into the doorway, she saw that Louise and Jack were still bickering with one another about God knows what as Harriet and Henry watched in amusement. She was about to approach her sister when she realized that Addie and Beatrice had basically cornered Atticus. Cautiously, she walked over to them.

"Our niece Eugenia is quite appealin', isn't she Bea?" Addie asked, laughing to herself when she noticed her niece approaching.

"Oh very, if it wasn't for that nose of hers…" Beatrice teased as she shook her head.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with her nose." Atticus said cordially.

"I'm certain I haven't heard a bigger lie in my life." Jean said from behind him. Addie and Beatrice laughed amongst themselves as Atticus smiled at her.

"These ladies here are very amusing, I've been having quite the time." He told her.

"Is that so?" She said, shooting her aunts a look. "What have they been tellin' you?"

"Well nothin' can be quite as embarrassing as the gun fiasco," Addie said. "But we were tellin' him you aren't as innocent as you appear."

Jean opened her mouth to ask why, but before she could answer Beatrice said: "We told him how you tried to hide Louise in the crawlspace when she was three."

"And how you tried to bury her in the backyard the year before." Addie remarked. "We were just tellin' him to be careful."

"Louise is probably as sardonic as she is as a defensive mechanism," Atticus said. "She's probably still damaged from what you've inflicted on her all those years ago."

"Or perhaps she's always been like that, and I was just trying to save the family before she became an even bigger fiend." Jean said seriously, making Atticus chuckle.

Before anyone could say anything else, Alexandra emerged from the kitchen. Her face was pink from the heat of the stove and if one looked hard enough, she was sweating. "The food is ready, it just needs to cool for a few moments." She said pleasantly.

A couple of minutes later, Charlotte and Edith returned to their company. Edith looked agitated, probably from having to convince Charlotte to come back downstairs while Jean's oldest sister simply looked as though she didn't want to be there.

Edith looked around the room and exhaled softly. "I supposed it's time to eat." She said, already sounding exhausted.

As everyone began to file into the dining room, Edith took Louise by the shoulder and said: "Honey, I forgot to tell you that you'll be sitting at the children's table."

Louise looked downright appalled. "I've been sitting at the adult table for two years already," she protested.

"Honey, it just worked out better this way." Edith said. "Harriet and Henry will be with you."

"She doesn't want her near the adults," Jean whispered to Atticus. "Another way of making sure she controls herself."

Before Atticus could respond Jack made a clicking noise and draped his arm on Louise's head, making her shrink down a little. "Aw kid, don't worry," He said, smirking. "I'll join ya."

"Now that," Atticus whispered to Jean. "May lead to the disaster your mother was hoping to avoid."

Edith looked at Jack and Louise, and for a moment it seemed as though she was going to object to this. "That's quite fine." She said stiffly. "If you would like to join her, you may."

Jack winked. "C'mon, kid." He teased as he headed into towards the kitchen where the children's table had been located. Before following him, Louise looked at Jean and rolled her eyes before muttering _God help me_.

Before retreating into the dining room, Edith glanced at Atticus and Jean and raised her eyebrows at her daughter. When she was out of earshot, Jean chuckled nervously. "That's how she always acts." She said quickly, referring to her mother.

"She seems just fine to me." Atticus said, smiling. "I have something for you. For later." He added quickly.

"You didn't need to—"

"Don't be silly," he said as he led her into the dining room. "I wanted to."

When they came into the dining room, everyone was settling in their seats. Politely, he pulled out an empty chair next to Maudie and beckoned her to sit in it. Smiling up at him, she sat, almost directly across from Edie. Edith's eyes remained on Atticus as he sat down next to Jean.

Without a doubt, that evening's dinner had been extraordinary. Nobody could deny that Alexandra Hancock was a culinary master, and the relative silence around the dinner table proved that. Halfway through the meal, Jean felt Atticus put his free hand on her knee, where it remained for the rest of the meal.

She was happy to see him again. It didn't matter to her that they weren't alone, passing time as they usually did. He was still with her, and that's all that mattered. Whenever she spoke, he looked at her with a kind expression on his face and her knee felt warm underneath his hand. It was all she needed.

"I'm going to get the coffee," Edith said once everyone had finished their meals. "I'm also going to make sure that the two ruffians in there didn't cause too much damage."

As Edith went into the kitchen to retrieve the coffee pot and saucers, Alexandra quickly got to her feet to help. That entire evening Jean had found it highly amusing that Alexandra would go through any length to please Edith, for once Alexandra was the vulnerable one. When the two ladies had returned and began passing out the saucers, Caroline chuckled and asked: "Have they killed each other yet?"

Edith gave her a kind smile, though Jean knew that her mother did not find Louise and Jack's interactions amusing. "He was tellin' them all about some priest who smoked a hookah. All of them, Louise included, were too entranced by the story to cause any commotion."

Caroline laughed as she sipped the coffee that was placed in front of her. "He's quite the story teller," She remarked. "I swear he could get himself out of any predicament just by tellin' one of his tall tales."

As Edith was about to hand Atticus his coffee, Alexandra politely stopped her. "He doesn't like coffee, dear." She said.

"Well how about some dessert then?" Edith asked him. Smiling, he politely declined.

"I'm afraid I don't care too much for that, either. But thank you." He said. Edith looked at Jean, and Jean knew her mother was probably thinking _Eugenia, you're going to be so bored_. She didn't care.

Still full and content from their dinner, the table was still mostly silent. Sipping from his water, Atticus looked at Edith and her sisters and asked: "How is Mr. Buford doing?"

All four of them let out little sighs. "He's managing," Edith responded. "He's doing awfully though. He can't talk anymore but I know he's in pain."

Beatrice shook her head sadly. "He's probably going to go soon," She said solemnly as she drank her coffee. "But I suppose it'd be better than how he is now."

For a moment the table was silent, but then Addie sat up and put a small smile on her face. "Let's not mull over the inevitable." She said. "It's Christmas, for God's sake! Let's talk about something happy."

Edith took that opportunity to look at Atticus. With a slight smile on her face, she asked him: "How's work Atticus? You must be awfully busy with your practice and the legislature."

"It's going quite well," He said. "There was a considerable amount to do before the holiday, but I managed alright I reckon."

"Your work must be very hard on you, you mustn't have much time for yourself." She responded.

Smiling, he shrugged. "It's alright," He said. "If anything I'm learning better time management as I get older."

"It may be alright for now," She said pleasantly. "You only have yourself to care for. What if you got married or have children, it may be harder then."

Atticus gripped her knee a little tighter, but still he smiled at Edith. Jean looked around the room and saw that all of Edith's sisters were looking at her curiously. Atticus swallowed and was about to respond to her when Beatrice chuckled.

"Edie, are you plannin' on startin' a new life with Atticus here? You sure are very inquisitive tonight." She said, making most of the table (even Charlotte!) laugh. Looking embarrassed, Edith forced a chuckle. At this moment Jean desperately wished that Louise was at the table with them, and knew she would have to tell her younger sisters about this later.

"You must think me a fool," Edith said, tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear. "You must forgive me. I haven't seen you since you were a boy so I let my curiosity get the best of me."

His smile grew a little wider. "There's nothing to be sorry for, Mrs. Graham."

-o-o-o-

Once the table had been cleared and everyone retreated back into the living room, Atticus pulled her aside and asked: "would you like to stand in the back yard with me? For some air?"

"I certainly would," she responded. "I'll meet you out there, I need to fetch something quickly."

Before he could respond, she quickly dashed into the living room to retrieve the book of poetry she hid underneath one of the sofas. Forgetting there was company, she got on her hands and knees, retrieved the package, and began to hurry to the back porch. " _Eugenia_ ," her mother said after watching the whole spectacle. "Where are you going?"

Hugging the book to her chest, she exhaled. Hoping that nobody else noticed what she had done, she looked around the room smiling. "I'm going to get some air," she said quickly, turning around before her mother could stop her again.

A little out of breath, she met Atticus on the back porch. He was looking away from her and looking out into the trees that stretched out before him. Quietly, she smiled at him. He must've been the most peaceful man she had ever met. Slowly, she made her way next to him. When she brushed her arm against his, he looked over. "What do you have there?"

"A gift for you," she responded. "It's nothing much."

Smiling, he shook his head slightly. "You didn't need to get me anything," he said. "That's very considerate of you."

Gently, she handed it to him. "Open it," she said eagerly. He took the package from her hands and tore off the carefully wrapped paper. Neatly, he folded the trash and put it in his pocket. Examining the book of poetry, he smiled at her. "I haven't heard of this writer before, this looks like it will be enjoyable."

"He's one of my favorites," she replied, smiling back at him. "He writes mainly about nature, so I thought it would be an appropriate gift considering our walks together."

"That's very fitting," He said, his smile growing a little. "I will enjoy this very much."

"I'm glad."

"I have something for you, too." He said, reaching in the pocket he didn't put his paper in. He handed her a thin box. "I'm afraid I don't do well wrapping." He added as she took the lid of the box off. Laid gently inside was a thin strand of pearls.

"Oh, this is beautiful," she said, admiring the necklace. "You really didn't hav—"

"Would you like me to put it on for you?" He asked. Smiling, she nodded. She handed him the necklace and turned around for him to put it on. Once it was fastened, she turned quickly on her heel to face him.

"How does it look?"

"Why, you make those things look lovely."

"You're very kind." She said. "Thank you very much."

They turned to look at the trees again, and while the air around them was very cold Jean couldn't help but to notice just how _warm_ she was feeling. Smiling to herself as Atticus took her hand in his, she reflected on how despite how hard this past year had been, this was her favorite Christmas.

"Jean?" He asked quietly after a few moments of silence.

"Yes?"

"I love you." He said slowly, thinking about every word he said. Feeling herself turn pink, she turned her head slightly to look at him.

"I love you too." She said matter-of-factly.

For the first time, he kissed her.


	11. Chapter 11

Edith had been tempted to stay at the Buford Place after Christmas as Frank's condition steadily declined. However, with her daughters and the nurse already residing there, Edith wasn't sure what more there would be for her to do. Everyone knew Frank was dying, it was just a matter of when he would go. So, nearly a week after Christmas, Edith and the rest of Jean's family returned to Montgomery. Louise told her sister that she also suspected that Edith wanted to stay in order to keep an eye on Jean and Atticus. On Christmas, when they were alone on the back porch, Edith had interrupted him kissing her. When Louise heard about it, she had erupted into such a fit of laughter she almost stopped breathing. Ever since then, whenever Louise saw Atticus she was sure to tease him more than she usually did. Jean figured it wasn't too much of a scandal, since it wasn't like they were doing anything terrible out there, but to Edith and her impeccable manners, she behaved like it was the end of the world.

For the rest of her visit, Jean had expected her mother to act coldly towards Atticus, but was relieved to see her acting like her usual self. Edith knew when it came to her daughters that she needed to pick and choose her battles, and her sense of normalcy towards Atticus signaled to Jean that her mother ultimately approved of her choices. However, Jean was quite relieved to see Edith go. Once her family left, she and Atticus would be able to continue their normal rituals in peace before the inevitable happened.

While Jean's life seemed to have been tremendously improving, Frank's was quickly deteriorating. He had become so frail that Jean and Louise could easily carry him. He seemed to have no recollection of who either of them were, couldn't eat at all, and had no control over any of his bodily functions. Jean's excursions out of the Buford Place, even just to walk by the river with Atticus, were becoming increasingly scant. She and Louise spent nearly every day by Frank's beside with his nurse, patiently waiting for the end to come. For once in her life, she felt bad for the bitter old man, who had always treated her so scornfully. Though she was certain that he could no longer see, whenever his eyes were open there was a pleading look in them. He just wanted this to be over, and Jean realized that each day he woke up still alive, he probably wished he was dead.

Atticus still came to visit Frank, even when is state was so unfortunate, and would read to him. Usually when he came, Jean and Louise would scurry downstairs and make some tea or find something to do to give the two men some time alone. After he would visit with Frank, he and Jean would usually spend their time in the study. They would try to read but the fact that there was so many things on both of their minds made that task a difficult one.

"I feel bad for him," Jean said one day, pressing her chin in the palm of her hand. "I think he wants to go."

"Anyone would want to go in that condition." Atticus said somberly.

"I hope when I die, I go quickly." She observed. "I would hate this nonsense of waiting around in pain, havin' everybody standin' over me."

"That would be awful."

"I'm sorry, this probably isn't something you want to talk about." She said, a little embarrassed.

"It's a fact of life, sweet." He said, rubbing her knee. "We shouldn't be afraid to talk about it."

She sighed, placing her hand on top of his. "It's just awful." She said.

"It sure is." He replied, kissing her forehead.

"What do you suppose we'll do?" She asked. "When I go back to Montgomery, I mean."

He shrugged, a small smile on his face. "Well, I'm there often enough for the legislature as it is." He began. "So I can see you then. It's not too far of a trip, I can come and see you quite easily. It's not like you're running off to Europe, unless there's something you aren't telling me." He added that last part quickly, making her chuckle.

"Oh! It looks like you caught me." She said teasingly.

"You're quite the devil sometimes." He informed her, smiling.

As Frank was getting sicker, Atticus' visits were becoming shorter than before. Frank required constant attention from both of his granddaughters, and Jean felt guilty leaving Louise alone with him for so long. Louise, who was usually stoic when it came to these things, was downright uneasy by the fact that she would most likely be in the same room as Frank when he died. When she was eight, she had been the one to find their father dead in the backyard. He was going out to get a tool so he could clip some branches off of some overgrown trees when his heart gave out. Louise, being as young as she was, thought her father was teasing her. It wasn't until she discovered that his entire body was stone cold and his eyes remained open and lifeless that she realized he was dead. She refused to go up to their father's casket with her family at the funeral, and when Simon died she couldn't bring herself to look at the boy before he was buried. The fact that she was going to have to be with Frank when he died was something she dreaded increasingly more each day and Jean wanted to make sure that her sister wasn't alone when he passed.

At night, the two of them would squeeze into the old cot they had next to Frank's bed and whisper to one another until they fell asleep. They probably could've talked at a somewhat normal tone, considering they were fairly certain that Frank couldn't hear them anymore anyway, but out of respect they remained as quiet as they possibly could.

"Are you scared for Frank to die?" Louise whispered one night.

"No, we all know it's comin'."

"I mean are you scared to leave here?"

"I reckon I'm not."

"You shouldn't be. He'll come to Montgomery to see you."

"Who?"

Louise hit her sister. "Atticus, you idiot."

"I know he will."

"I reckon I like him even though he stole you."

"Well that's certainly nice of you."

"I figure I need to if I'm going to be living in the spare bedroom of your house." Louise said. "I can be your kids' spinster aunt who lets them read books that are too old for them and lets them stay up late."

"What about Europe?"

Jean felt her sister shrug. "I can make some accommodations."

"You're insane."

"You like it."

"I didn't say otherwise."

-o-o-o-

They weren't sure exactly when it happened, but Frank died in his sleep one evening. Neither of them were surprised when Jean had gone up to give him his medications and discovered him lifeless in his bed. If anything, they were surprised that he managed to live for so long. Louise looked like she felt remorseful that Jean had been the one to find him, but in all honesty Jean was glad that it hadn't been Louise. She rarely saw her sister worked up, and she certainly didn't want to see it now.

The first person they called on when Frank died was Alexandra Hancock. Since the nurse wasn't there to help them, she seemed like the next best thing, especially since both Jean and Louise had no clue what to do. Kindly, Alexandra dropped everything she was doing and hurried to the Buford Place. She immediately went up to Franks room to check on him, and sadly met the girls in the parlor and told them there wasn't anything anyone could do.

The next person they called on, of course, was Edith. Sadly, Jean told her mother how they were going up to Frank to tend on him and he was dead. She told Edith that she thought he went peacefully.

"Eugenia," her mother said before they hung up.

"Yes, mama?"

"Are you alright?"

"I reckon so."

"I'll be there tomorrow." Edith said firmly. "But you can call again if you need me."

"We'll be fine."

There was a pause on the other end. "I love you, Eugenia."

Jean froze. Of course Edith had told Jean she loved her before, but it still made Jean feel strangely. "I love you too, mama." She said quickly before hanging up the receiver.

Alexandra had offered to stay with Jean and Louise that night if they wanted, so they wouldn't be alone with Frank's body (somebody would be by to pick it up the next day in order to prepare it for the funeral). Jean and Louise were quick to decline. While they certainly felt sadness over the loss of Frank, they were fine enough to handle things on their own. Alexandra had sighed, looking sadly at both of the girls and clasping her hands together. "I always feel uneasy about things like that." She whispered, as though Frank could hear her. "If you need me, you know where I am."

In the days following, Maudie and the rest of her family arrived at the Buford Place to assist with cleaning and packing up the old house (Jean never would know what became of it) and preparing for Frank's funeral. One day, while she and Louise were cleaning out the attic, Atticus had come. Regretfully, he expressed his condolences to Edith and her sisters, and explained that he had been in charge of Frank's will. Jean, Louise and Harriet watched from the kitchen doorway as Atticus sat with Edith and the aunts and went over the details of the will.

Frank had left _him_ the gun collection.

Jean couldn't help but to find that funny. Though he was a good shoot, Atticus hated guns and what they did. Now, he found himself in the possession of nearly _twenty_ guns. She wondered what he would do with them.

Not long after Atticus' visit, Jean attended her second funeral during her stay in Montgomery. This time, it had been extremely surreal. Instead of sitting with his family, Atticus had sat by her side throughout the entire service. Though she was sad, she didn't cry over the loss of her grandfather. She figured she hadn't known him _that_ well, after all. She was embarrassed to think that maybe she was sadder about leaving Maycomb and Atticus than about Frank's death. These were the thoughts that occupied her mind when she should have been paying attention to the sermon.

At Frank's memorial, which was held at the nearly barren Buford Place, Atticus had pulled her aside. For a moment, they stood quietly on the back porch.

"I'm sorry." He said finally.

"It's fine." She said, clearing her throat.

He smiled at her sadly. "I've known him for a long time," he started. "But I think I'm sadder about you leaving."

She sighed and held his hand. "At least I won't be far." She said, trying to think of something positive.

"I'll come as often as I can."

"You better." She told him, smiling sadly.

"You know I will." He said, kissing her forehead.

-o-o-o-

After Frank's funeral, time seemed to have gone by incredibly quickly. After they buried Frank, Jean spent one week in Maycomb with her family as they tried to tie up loose ends before returning to Montgomery. In between the various tasks assigned to her by Edith, Jean had spent as much time as she could with Atticus. Still, it seemed as though it wasn't enough. Constantly, she had to tell herself that they would still see each other regularly, but it wasn't going to be the same as seeing him every day. When it finally came time for her to leave Maycomb, she was embarrassed to find herself crying as she said goodbye to Atticus.

He grasped her shoulders and smiled at her. "Don't be silly." He said, wiping a tear off of her cheek. "I'll come to see you next week."

With the lump still present in Jean's throat, the only thing she could do was nod. Making sure Edith wasn't within eyesight, Atticus kissed her. "Don't worry," he said. "I love you."

"I love you too." She sniffed before she left.

Not surprisingly, Atticus had diligently kept up with his promise. When she first went back home, Atticus would visit Montgomery every weekend (he would stay with Aunt Addie when he did come in order to stay on Edith's good side). Three months after she came back, she was pleased to find that the Legislature had been called on an emergency session and Atticus was forced to spend nearly three weeks in Montgomery. It was almost as if they were back at the Buford Place, seeing each other every day.

As a year passed, and Jean was still in Montgomery, she was relieved to see that Atticus was still interested in her and maintained his usual visits. She didn't even feel guilty that he spent so much time traveling when he had work to do because she wanted to have his company as much as possible. When he came, he seemed just as excited to be with her as she was to be with him. By far, one of her most favorite things they did while he was in Montgomery was walk around the city streets. There he would hold her hand, much like he did in Maycomb (she couldn't help but to find it funny that he would never dare touch her in Edith's presence). She would tell him stories about the various things she and her sisters did here as children, and he would tell her all that was going on back in Maycomb. However, he was acting peculiarly one night in the early summer and was awfully quiet. Usually, the silences between the two of them were hardly ever awkward, but Jean found herself talking and talking just for the sake of it.

As they approached a bench, he suggested they sit down. Finally, he spoke. "How would you like to come back to Maycomb?" He asked.

"That would be lovely," she said, smiling. "It would be good to see everyone there."

He cleared his throat. "I mean permanently."

She opened her mouth to say something (what, she wasn't so sure) but he continued. "Now, I can't promise you a life of travel or much excitement, but I can promise you a steady life. I'll work hard and provide for you, we could have a couple of children and raise 'em and live a completely normal life. You could always come to Montgomery with me when I'm here for the legislature, we could do things like have family Christmas and go to family reunions and watch our kids graduate from school- it's just that I've found that I love you and my life has been quite empty without you with me in Maycomb. Maybe one day when I retire we could live on the coast of France or something and have the children visit us for holidays."

Jean's face grew hot as she watched him fumble around. "I'd prefer Switzerland." She said bluntly, smirking at him. His face turned red.

"Fine, we will live on some mountain top in Switzerland where no one can find us." He said, making her laugh. "But you'd have to marry me first."

"I would love to, but," she said, and she noticed him go stiff. "You haven't asked me."

"Haven't—what?"

"Mr. Finch," she said, kissing his cheek before she crossed her arms and stared at him. "While everything you've said was completely enticing and very wonderful, it seems as though you've forgotten to ask me to marry you."

"Are you serious?"

"I'm still waiting."

"I thought it was implied."

"If I'm lucky, this will be the only time I'm proposed to and I would like it done right." She sneered, smiling at him.

"Well, as a matter of fact I'm not quite sure—"

"Oh, please!"

"Fine." He said as he stood up. "Would you like me to do all of the theatrics, get down on one knee, proclaim my undying love for you in front of all of these strangers?"

"Hmm, let's see what else I can have you do." She teased as she stroke her chin, pretending to be deep in thought.

"You're incredibly funny." He said flatly, almost reminding her of Alexandra. She couldn't help but to chuckle at this.

She cleared her throat. "I'm still waiting." She said again, smirking at him.

He gave her a serious look as he got on his knee, and used the bench to steady himself. Jean couldn't help but to laugh at the sight of it. Truthfully, she would've been fine if he hadn't done so, but she loved teasing him so it was entirely worth it. "Eugenia Josephine Graham, will you take this imaginary ring, since the actual one has been left at my sister's house, and marry me?"

She erupted into laughter after watching him go into his pocket and pretend to pull a ring out of it. At this point, Atticus was looking absolutely resigned. "Wee-ll…" she teased, beaming at him.

"Just say yes, please."

"You didn't even need to ask," she said, cupping his face and kissing him. "Of course I will."

He stood up and took his seat next to her on the bench and took her hand in his. "If we ever have a daughter we should pray she isn't as difficult as you. I'm not sure how we, or anybody in town, would ever cope."

"But imagine what fun it'd be watchin' her with Alexandra," She leered, kissing his cheek again as he chuckled. "I love you, sweet."

He smiled back at her. "I love you, too. Despite the fact that you may very well be the most hateful woman in Alabama."

"You're forgettin' Louise."

"Oh, be quiet." He said, kissing her. In her wildest dreams, Jean never thought that she would actually _belong_ in Maycomb, but found herself glad that she did.


	12. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I thought I should mention that the quote I have Atticus say in the middle of the chapter belongs to George Addair. I'm not sure if this quote was well-known when this story is set, but I thought it was extremely fitting.

A/N: Sorry in advanced if this A/N gets a little lengthy! I've always had the habit of writing the first and last chapter of a fic first (I think as a way to keep me committed), so this has been done for quite a while. I've decided that, even though I could explore this story more, to stop myself at a place where there was a good ending point but also where I could come back and continue on if I really wanted to. I wanted this story to be relatively short because this was one of my first major attempts at a multi-chaptered fic so I didn't want to get in over my head. Also, the last year of my Master's program begins relatively soon so I know I'll probably lose any free time that I have. However, I already have two chapters of a follow-up written, but I want to make sure I have a good foundation for it before I post anything (in case school does cause me to disappear). But, overall, I'm quite proud of this little thing and am extremely appreciative for all of the kind words and feedback I've gotten along the way!

-o-o-o-

Jean thought she would never become a mother. After months and months of trying and two miscarriages, she had begun to tell herself that maybe this was just something that would never happen. However, six years, eight months, two weeks and four days after Simon had died, Jeremy Atticus Finch entered the world. In the seventeen hours and forty-five minutes she had been in labor, she calculated exactly how long it had been since her nephew's death. She also calculated how much time had passed since she met Atticus and almost exactly how long she and Atticus had been married (it was something about counting that distracted her from the pain). Atticus, in his already anxious state, had come to believe she had gone into some kind of fit. It wasn't until she declared, through gritted teeth and fits of pain, how long Simon had been gone did he understand.

In the years that passed since Simon's death, Jean felt quite proud in her ability to forego most of the guilt she had felt. Thanks to that first walk she ever had with Atticus, she was able to move on, to fully accept what had happened and continue on with her life without feeling guilty or miserable quite as much as she used to. It wasn't until Atticus brought up the idea of having children early on into their marriage that Simon once again began to press heavily on her mind.

That evening had gone on as normal, with Atticus returning from the office in the early evening and the two of them having dinner together. On an extremely normal night, there would have been more conversation between the two of them, but for some reason her husband had been oddly silent. This didn't worry Jean, though, because Atticus had been known to have his periods of quietness and solitude and they never lasted very long.

After dinner, the rest of the evening was usually spent sitting on the porch or in the sitting room, talking and reading until it was time to retire to the bedroom. But, Atticus had still been silent.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Atticus, without looking up from his book, thought aloud: "I like what we have."

Jean couldn't help but to be a little confused. "I like being married," he continued, mindlessly marking the page that he was on and resting the book on the floor next to him. Finally, he looked at her and he was smiling. Jean couldn't help but to worry. "But I've been thinking about something."

She swallowed. "What's that, sweet?" She asked, hoping she didn't sound too nervous.

"We should have a baby." He responded, still smiling at her. Her heart got caught in her throat as her mind went immediately to the image of Simon in that damn pool. "Only if you want," he added, and she noticed his smile fade a little bit.

"Of course!" She replied, sitting up straighter in her chair. "Nothing would make me happier."

She couldn't help but to notice how _happy_ he looked, and felt quite shameful at the fact that she never realized that this was something he wanted so badly. "A baby would be nice," she added, smiling back at her husband.

Both Jean and Atticus had been incredibly surprised at how quickly she had gotten pregnant. They were also both surprised by how quickly she lost the baby. After the entire ordeal, Jean couldn't help but to feel guilty for a number of reasons. Something in the back of her mind convinced her that she lost the baby because she spent most of her time worrying about it since the minute she found out about its existence. To add to that, Jean was quite certain she would never forget the look of pure sadness on Atticus' face in the days following the miscarriage.

The second pregnancy didn't come as quickly as the previous one. However, at this point she wasn't going to give up. She was going to have a baby, damn it. She swore she was ready for it this time. But, once she found out she was pregnant again it was like the vicious circle had come to full swing once again. All she could do was worry all day, the pit of anxiousness in her stomach never subsiding. She tried to push those feelings aside and be happy, because after all, she did _really_ want this baby. Atticus _really_ wanted this baby. But it was no use, she spent her days worrying about what would happen once the baby was born, rather than being excited.

She lost that baby, too. For days afterwards, she cried and cried in her bed, unable to move. She couldn't even keep her babies alive long enough to be born, how the hell was she going to successfully raise one? Maybe this was God punishing her for what happened to Simon, maybe it was a sign that she should give up because the past was doomed to repeat itself. On those dark days, Atticus didn't go to work, he was too worried about her. He spent his days sitting next to her, reading as she cried, trying to get her to get some air or something to eat. Usually, when she declined he allowed her to grieve. He would hold her, pat her head, and told her that she shouldn't blame herself. While it was comforting, she still couldn't help but to feel guilty.

One day, it must've been nearly a week after they lost the baby, he forced her out of bed. He made her sit up, brush her hair and put on a dress, and told her she was going to walk around town with him. She tried to decline, but he wouldn't let her. "I didn't _ask_ you to go for a walk," he said gently as he took her hand and led her towards the front porch. "I _told_ you. This'll do you some good."

If she hadn't already been in a vulnerable state, she wouldn't have felt quite as stung as she did when he said that. But still, she walked with him, knowing that he had nothing but her best interests at heart. During their walk throughout town, they simply talked to each other, about the weather, his work, the news, books and anything else that crossed their minds. Despite the fact that her entire face was swollen from weeping and she received some questionable glances, the two of them smiled at neighbors and bid them hello as they walked. This was alright, she thought, things were alright.

After their walk, they finally resumed life as normal. They ate dinner together and later sat in the parlor listening to the radio. The pit of anxiety that she thought was permanent finally dissolved.

Usually, the two of them would sit in separate chairs during their nightly ritual. But on this night Atticus had taken a seat on the couch, beckoning for her to come sit with him. There they sat, for hours, with her head resting on his shoulder. The only noise that could be heard for a while was the sound of the radio and the turning of pages from Atticus' book.

"Sweet?" He said abruptly, making her jump.

"Yes?"

"Everything you've ever wanted is on the other side of fear." He said, kissing her temple. Tears began prickling her eyes, but she found that this time she wasn't sad. Despite her silence on the subject, he had known this entire time just how nervous she had been.

The third time she got pregnant, neither of them got too excited or hopeful, but instead went about their normal lives (with some alterations of course). When two months passed and they didn't lose the baby, she could tell that Atticus was getting more excited, but still remained silent. Three, four, five and eventually six months passed and she was beginning to get bigger and she felt the baby move inside her and they both finally realized that this time they were in it for the long haul. They finally told their families about the baby, bought things like bottles and a crib and clothes so little that Atticus was highly amused by them, and they realized they were finally going to be parents. In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but to think that maybe it was too good to be true. When she told Atticus that he smiled at her, and told her that the pair of them must be cynics because he worried sometimes, too. From what his sisters told him about being parents, he told Jean he figured that this just marked the beginning of many years of worrying about their child. As the baby continued to grow and move (sometimes making her feel like her spine was being crushed), Jean figured her husband was right.

That's how she got to her current state, confined to a bed for nearly a day, thinking she was going to break from the pain she was in. She felt guilty for comparing her alive child to her long-dead nephew, but she found it was the only way to keep her mind off of the pain.

Almost suddenly, she felt relief. As she struggled to catch her breath, the room filled with cries. Loud, wet cries that indicated that her baby was indeed very much alive. She looked over at Atticus, who was watching Dr. Reynolds intently. Finally, he looked over at her, smiling. "You did it," he said in her ear as he kissed her forehead.

"You have a son," Dr. Reynolds beamed at Jean as he carried the noisy bundle towards her. She propped herself up on her elbows to get a better look. "How would you like to hold him?"

Nervously, Jean quickly looked at her husband. "You," she gasped, causing Dr. Reynolds to look surprised. "Let Atticus hold him." She said as the doctor put the baby in her husband's arms, still looking perplexed.

Shortly after, the doctor excused himself to give them time with the baby, but neither of them noticed. Jean watched as Atticus beamed down at the now quiet bundle in his arms, and felt the nervousness rising through her once again. "How is he?" She whispered as Atticus brought the bundle closer for her to see. He was a pink little thing with a head full of light brown hair, and she loved him.

"Lucky for him he looks just like his mama." Atticus said proudly, kissing her head again. Looking at her son, she couldn't help but to take him right from Atticus' arms. The baby, surprised by being moved so quickly, made a noise that reminded her of a cat howling. She cried.

With the baby in her arms, she completely forgot about her husband standing beside her. Gently, she kissed her baby's face, leaving tears on his cheeks. The baby scrunched his face and let out a little noise, making Jean laugh through her tears.

"Look at him," was all she could say as she kissed Atticus again and again. "He's perfect, he's so perfect."

Why, she couldn't take her eyes off of him, he was the most beautiful specimen she ever laid her eyes on. And he was hers, all hers. "Are you still afraid?" Atticus asked, not removing his eyes from his son.

"Terrified," she responded, still beaming down at the bundle in her arms. "But I don't think I would change this for the world."

 _End_.


End file.
